<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Sweeter Things by ilikeblue</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757404">Sweeter Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeblue/pseuds/ilikeblue'>ilikeblue</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Brienne of Tarth, Boss Crush but not creepy, Braime - Freeform, Brienne in a Kilt, Cosplay as foreplay, Dorks in Love, Endgame Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Geeks in Love, Hufflepuff Pride, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), Quidditch, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Smitten Jaime Lannister, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, way too many pop culture references</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:43:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilikeblue/pseuds/ilikeblue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne Tarth might drive him mad: with that whiskey and honey voice and those indecent legs, with her slanted smile and sweet disposition, her strange fascinations and odd mannerisms and endless, endless talking to everyone <i>but</i> him.  Jaime Lannister liked his new job, liked his employees and their cosy little office. But he <i>adored</i> Brienne, and she didn’t have a clue.</p><p>Jaime Lannister was watching her, and Brienne didn’t understand why. It wasn’t watching in a creepy stalker way, she never felt undressed or uncomfortable just…seen. Dissected and <i>maybe</i> appreciated and definitely known in a manner that was weird and a tiny bit wonderful.  Jaime, her beautiful boss, who she had decided for some incomprehensible reason was <i>lonely.</i>  </p><p><strong>For the prompt: </strong>“Brienne invites co-worker Jaime Lannister to join her Dungeons &amp; Dragons game group because he seems lonely.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister &amp; Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister &amp; Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Jaime x Brienne Fic Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Eleven</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplenightling/gifts">Purplenightling</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Technology assistance representative number eleven was going to drive him mad.Slowly,<em> teas-ing-ly </em>mad, with syllable after <em>syl-la-ble </em>burrowing beneath his skin in a warm, languorous spread that made his cheeks pink and his hands clench on his keyboard. Every word she spoke sinking into his gut <em>then lower, </em>and Jaime squirmed with it.He <em>loved </em>her voice, there was no way around it. Adored the way it came off clipped one minute, silky and musical the next. Always pronounced just so, with too much purpose for such mundane words. But that described everything about his eleven, much too much of it all…too much for him, too much for this office, too much to be real.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime thought it odd when Brienne Tarth approached him on his first day as supervisor and asked to switch her identifying number. There were only five people in the Lannister Corporation information technology branch that he was given leadership over, and he had assumed (<em>silly him) </em>that they would use numbers 1-5 and be done with it. Intrigued, he let her run with the idea, determining at first glance that she was not likely to say “I’m number one!” with any real enthusiasm, joking or otherwise.Still eleven<em>…eleven?</em> It was a mystery why she picked it, but his concession of the choice had pleased her so that the memory of her face in that moment made his cheeks ache from smiling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’d practically skipped back to her colleagues saying “Call me eleven boys.” All the other operators looking up from their consoles and grumbling, a chubby guy named Sam threatened to shave her head while another kid named Bran blinked exaggeratedly before saying “I’ll be your Mike.” Eleven erupted in laughter at that, and <em>holy shit </em>the things he imagined when she laughed. She teasingly informed Bran that he had the crappy haircut to pull it off before scurrying back to her station and settling in for the day.He felt like an outsider, missing some joke that he didn’t know the appropriate code to crack. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Months after learning her name she remained <em>eleven</em> in his head, although he must admit <em>Brienne </em>had a lovely growl to it when whispered slowly. Still, <em>eleven</em> was his secret vice, his concealed endearment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They were good workers, all of them, and his job was really a cake walk. Productivity and satisfaction scores were higher than the company’s established thresholds right from the start. In his heart Jaime knew this job was his father’s punishment for refusing to get his Master’s degree in business and embrace the Lannister cliché. Trying his damnedest not to turn into <em>that</em> asshole, he’d studied computer science instead.Let the old man stew in it, he liked his obscure job in the tiny windowless office. As a group they handled all the IT questions from the many corporate branches, some overseas.A big calendar in the corner displayed “UPGRADE” days in bright red, and all five of his employees voluntarily clocked in two hours early whenever a vital system was overhauled to handle the inevitable glitches. They spent hours on the phone managing password emergencies, lost data, software breaches and skips in programming with ease. His little department made him look good, and Jaime rewarded them the appropriate freedom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When someone asked if they could have casual Friday, Jaime suggested abolishing the dress code altogether. They worked in a forgotten cubby-hole, what did it matter if they looked the Lannister Corporation ideal?Eleven grinned at him as he made the announcement, and for the first time he noticed her eyes. Eyes designed by some benevolent deity to match <em>that voice</em>, bright and full of mischief, the color of wildflowers and mornings bursting with promise. <em>Sexy eyes</em>. Fucking sexy eleven.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He listened to her every day, their desks only feet apart. Eleven was exceptionally kind. Her sweetness radiated like warmth, a goodness to her that existed outside of the norm. She patiently helped every person who couldn’t log on, going one by one through the names of pets and grandchildren that they might have used to create a password before settling on a reset. When someone would call in a panic over misplaced files, eleven worked tirelessly to retrieve them, acting as combat counselor for overstressed employees freaking out over their jobs.All the while there was that voice—<em>that voice—</em>deep and round and driving him crazy as she talked to everyone, everyone but <em>him.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime developed an affinity for coffee, not because he enjoyed the taste, but the pot was across the room and retrieving a cup gave him an excuse to pass behind her workstation without looking sketchy.Little toys with big heads were taped in place on top of her console, he wondered what they were. When she was bored she’d play with them, reaching out with lanky fingers<em> (he liked her fingers too)</em> tipping their heads so that they met in a forehead kiss, all while absentmindedly discussing some trivial issue with a random stranger miles away. In those moments she looked wistful and young, a yearning in her actions that resonated with him in deep, biting way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the absence of a dress code, eleven wore cool tee shirts and ripped up jeans. Sometimes he recognized the logos on the front: <em>The Cure, </em>got it. <em>Empire (not </em>some shitty prequel)…check.Still, too often he didn’t know a symbol or saying. It made him feel old and out of the loop and, <em>well hell </em>maybe he was, but he didn’t want to be. Jaime liked his coworkers, he <em>really </em>liked eleven, he wished he fit in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On his third drive-by on a particularly boring Thursday, eleven spun around in her desk chair and grinned at him. She had a funny smile, teeth a little crooked and disconcertingly full lips, and Jaime found that he liked the imperfection of it, liked that she didn’t seem to mind its imperfection either. “You creeping?” She tilted her head to the side, blushing at her own impertinence before mumbling “Th-that is, I mean it’s your prerogative since you’re my <em>boss </em>to…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He curbed her embarrassed mumbling with a smile.Jaime had been searching for an opening for weeks, the truth seemed an okay start. “Yeah, maybe I am. I’m bored.” He shrugged his shoulders at her, and she gifted him with a low, long chuckle. “What’s with the dolls?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eleven scoffed, lifted her nose in the air and rolled her pretty eyes. “These are not dolls, they’re<em> collectables.</em>” Giggling<em> (she giggles?!) </em>eleven patted the closest one’s head. “Isn’t that right Goldenhand?” After a moment she gingerly stroked the head of the companion figure which was apparently jealous of her attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Who’s he?” Jaime took a tentative step forward, pointed to the figure she was still fondling.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s a <em>she </em>not a <em>he.</em> A girl can be a knight too.” She sounded a bit indignant, Jaime found it precious. Eleven could be his knight if she wanted to. Turning an even brighter shade of pink she asked hesitantly: “Have you really never heard of <em>Contest of Conquerors</em>?” Of course he had, everyone knew about the show. But he’d been in the middle of finishing grad school then working his way up the company chain, albeit half-heartedly. There wasn’t time for something as light hearted as television. It was kind of sad when he thought of it that way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I never saw it. Didn’t the last few seasons suck anyway?” At his question a groan echoed through the room,a lone voice crying out from the far corner <em>‘what’s dead can never die’</em> followed immediately by three others muttering <em>‘and so our watch has ended’</em> in unison. The group erupted in snickers, Jaime was baffled.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The last four point five episodes never happened.” She held up one long hand in a halting motion. “Do not try to convince me otherwise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is she from the same show?” He pointed to a third figure, a close shaved girl in a pink dress, complete with removable yellow wig. “She’s pretty.” He winked at eleven who once again rolled her eyes, this time with a gleeful sparkle, delighted to be talking to him about this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>That’s </em>Eleven.” She winked back, the act so much cuter when she did it. Pale lashes fluttering shut against flushed, freckled cheeks making his pulse rocket.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, so your number<em>?</em>” He tilted his head in question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is the borrowed name of a bald ten year old.” She shrugged and laughed. It was loud and involved a bit of snorting as it bounced like music in the small room, Jaime was captivated. “I sorta hoped eleven would catch on as a nickname but…it didn’t.” Her lips bent in mild disappointment, and Jaime had a sudden flash of understanding; that the intimacy of having a nickname meant more to her than the word itself. “You missed <em>Stranger Things </em>too, huh?” The question startled him from his musings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Afraid so.” Jaime crinkled his nose in embarrassment. Apparently he was the <em>only </em>person in the office furtively calling her eleven while fantasizing about her obscenely long legs and sex goddess voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let me guess, you’re one of those nature documentary only types…all about hiking in Greenland or raising awareness for the burning Amazon, <em>right?</em> Those jeans are actually made from recycled plastic bags.” She stared so intently, first at his pants and then at him, he was unable to form a reply. Eleven cracked first, her face splitting in a bemused grin. “I’m joking with you Mr. Lannister. I hope they<em> are</em> made of water bottles or whatever…that would be awesome. You look <em>great</em> in everything<em>,</em> even trash.”He saw the moment her mind caught up with her mouth, as her face scrunched and she somehow managed to both blanch and blush brighter at the same time. “I didn’t mean to…that is you <em>do</em>, but I shouldn’t have said. Oh<em>-oh no…</em>” Eleven curled long fingers over her gaping mouth, totally mortified.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Hey, </em>please don’t. I don’t mind the ribbing, a-and I like talking to you. Please…<em>don’t stop.</em>” Jaime was staring, staring and babbling and finding it difficult to just shut up. “I look great?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Holy hell.</em> Why his brain stuck on that point was beyond him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eleven narrowed her eyes, the expression full of wonder. Her voice took on a restful quality, like hot tea with milk, soothing and familiar. “Of course you look great, you<em> know</em> don’t you?” Breaking free from his gaze to look at the floor. “You must know you’re beautiful?” She mumbled it under her breath, appearing to forget that he was <em>right there.</em> Just as quickly she regained her senses, shook her head in quick jerks as blond locks bounced back and forth and her neck caught fire once more. “Sorry, that was overly forward an-and<em> weird. </em>I’m weird sometimes<em>.</em>” Her eyes turned stormy, discontent flooding her features. “All of us…” she waved a hand at the room, indicating her fellow employees, “…sometimes we’re better at talking to machines than people, and when I open my mouth it can be too direct or just…wrong. The guys are used to it, but you’re not.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I like the honesty.” Jaime put a tentative hand on her shoulder to halt the self-doubt he saw building. He appreciated her unadorned manner of speaking, her directness. In his family complements were currency, handed out as payment, or a bribe. Talking to someone who actually said what they felt, it was<em> liberating</em>.“Thank you for thinkingthat I’m beautiful, and for <em>saying it.</em>” Jaime really grinned at her then, lips parting to show his teeth, eyes crinkling at the corners. It probably made him look old but was enjoying her too much to care. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With slow surrender her mouth fell open and her eyes widened, electric blue in the fluorescent lighting. The blank look on her face lingering until the moment turned awkward, and she bit her lips to tack them shut. “Yeah, well…<em>wow</em>, ummm. Usually people are put off by my lack of subtlety. But…<em>you-</em>you’re welcome Mr. Lannister.” She gave him a tight smile, bright circles perched high on pinched cheeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jaime, <em>please…</em>call me Jaime.” He extended a hand and she gripped it over-aggressively, rubbing unfamiliar calluses against his fingers that made his skin tingle. She was wonderful…wonderful and odd and innocent and out of place everywhere and Jaime wanted to package her in bubble wrap and keep the world from beating her down because eleven was awesome.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jaime it is.” She puckered her mouth and looked at her hands, searching for what to say next.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I could call you eleven.” He blurted the thought, desperate to keep their exchange going. “….you know, <em>occasionally umm, </em>maybe…if you don’t m-mind.” Jaime was stuttering like a school boy but Brienne didn’t seem to notice, too pleased with his suggestion.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Would you call me eleven when you’re happy with me, or when you’re annoyed?” The teasing look was back, eyes shimmering. “Or <em>perhaps </em>you’ll only use it in secret.” She raised an eyebrow in question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He leaned forward, lowering his voice to match her conspiratorial stare. “I guess you’ll have to figure out what I’m thinking when I use it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne beamed and nodded, taking a deep breath before pressing on. “Will you have lunch with us?” Jaime usually ate alone, letting the others congregate at the table in the corner they used as a break room. “We’re sitting outside today, you can share my beach towel.” He’d noticed that too, how they gathered sometimes for an informal picnic while he stayed inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They won’t mind?” Heindicated the rest of the room. Jaime had a good thing going here, he didn’t want to ruin it by forcing his presence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her frown was child-like. “Why would they? There’s plenty of room, and…you’re my new project.” She reassured him with an easy smile. “I’m going to introduce the hyper-serious Jaime Lannister to my geeky world. Nothing but brain-rotting escapism from now on.” Her coloring had settled to a pleasant pink, sinking back into her own skin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m not that serious, just…” <em>Lonely? Enamored? Afraid to completely break free from the Lannister mould and be myself?</em> “…busy, I’ve been <em>busy</em>, but your plan sounds like fun…and I miss fun.”<em>Pathetic?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then we’ll have fun.” If she found him sad it didn’t show, Brienne smiled as if he were the best prize in the box and Jaime glowed in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“See you at lunch.” He backed away, still staring at her impossible eyes, trying not to fall over a trash can or printer and totally ruin his exit.Brienne would probably find it charming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Brienne: </b>I invited Mr. Lannister to eat outside with us. Sorry if it’s uncomfortable. Try to be nice.</p>
<p><b>Sam:</b> of course we’ll be nice.</p>
<p><b>Bran:</b>why would you do that?</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> he seemed lonely.</p>
<p><b>Theon: </b>U think he’s pretty B?</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> Shut up squid face.</p>
<p><b>Pod:</b> That was really sweet Brie, he seems nice.</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> Thank you Pod, my one civilized friend 😘</p>
<p><b>Brienne: </b>and Sam, U2.</p>
<p><b>Bran: </b>he just wants to get in your pants</p>
<p><b>Theon:</b> that’s a lot of pant to conquer. 🤣</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> shut up!</p>
<p><b>Sam:</b> We shouldn’t assume, maybe he’d rather be in your pants Bran. </p>
<p><b>Bran:</b> he IS cute.😋</p>
<p><b>Pod:</b> It’s an assumption that he wants to get in anyone’s pants. Not everyone thinks with their penis.</p>
<p><b>Pod: </b>sorry Brie.</p>
<p><b>Brienne: </b>’s okay Pod, I’ve heard of penises.</p>
<p><b>Sam:</b> Technically it’s an assumption that he has a penis, since none of us have seen it. HAS anyone seen it?</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> OMG stop talking about Jaime’s penis!</p>
<p><b>Bran: </b>Jaime?? ROFL</p>
<p><b>Sam:</b> Jaime? Since when??</p>
<p><b>Pod: </b>JAIME??</p>
<p><b>Theon:</b> 😏Called it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As one they put down their phones and stared around their monitors at Brienne, who was blazing with embarrassment. <em>“Shut. Up.” </em>She whisper-shouted to the group after Jaime entered the restroom, waving her hands frantically to fend off any further questions. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne was still trying to process the fact that she told Jaime Lannister, her boss <em>Mr. Lannister</em>, that he was beautiful.<em>He is.</em> The existence of his beauty was unquestionable. The sky is blue, the sun is hot, Jaime Lannister is beautiful. Just one of the innumerable facts that existed in isolation, no external validation necessary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Maybe if you were blind you wouldn’t know?</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Her mind had the tendency to duck down side alleys, and she had long ago given up the struggle of reigning it in, preferring to follow the trail and see where it lead. She closed her eyes, imagined her fingers sliding across his high cheekbones, his sharp jaw. Finding the little groves by his eyes, the steep bow of his upper lip, the lump that humbled his aristocratic nose. Nope. <em>Jaime Lannister would still be beautiful</em>, even if you couldn’t see it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That didn’t explain the dissociative fugue she must have slipped into as she confessed that fact <em>right to his face.</em> Hours later she still burned with mortification. More puzzling was his response to her admission, as if kindness was foreign, studying her compliment like an unknown commodity. It made her want to do it again, spill all her silly infatuations: how his grass-green eyes made her weak, the way his voice scampered up her spine and set her head floating. Brienne would gladly gift him all her girly secrets for one more breathtaking smile.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne had always been awkward, the inability to fit in extending beyond her towering height, her wide waist and muscled shoulders. She was by nature introverted and shy, too thick-tongued to run with the quick, mean girls, too soft beneath her formidable exterior to tolerate taunting without hurt. In defense she withdrew to her own world of fantasy. From childhood she felt displaced in time, in purpose. In her imaginings she lived up to her own dreams of herself, the warrior she secretly felt she should be. Her little group of work friends had gradually become her <em>friend-</em>friends, each of them a trifle odd, a tad misplaced as well. They shared her love of all things magical and fantastic, accepted her eccentricities without question.She felt at home here, welcome and wanted and able to be herself.Unafraid of crawling out from the shell she had tediously constructed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The fact that Jaime didn’t make fun of her interests, that he seemed excited to talk about her strange fascinations elevated him from swoon-worthy to almost-a-god status. She felt his pull from across the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At 12:03 she stood, picked up her lunch bag and towel and smiled at Jaime who was already looking in her direction expectantly. “Shall we?” She nodded at the door leading to a patch of shaded grass, he grabbed his lunch and followed.The other four filed in behind with expressions ranging from smugly pleased to outright confused, Brienne prayed that Jaime didn’t notice how Bran elbowed her from behind, forcing her to bump into him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The calendar said it was fall, but it felt like summer.One of those rare perfect temperature days after the steamy season has passed, still warm enough for shorts. Brienne unfurled a towel with a gold lion on a red background, and Theon playfully kicked at it, causing her to huff and drag it out of his reach. “Really Brie, you still like that doofus?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They murdered his character arc Theon. It wasn’t <em>his</em> fault.” She plopped down on one side, leaving plenty of room for Jaime who paused mid-sit, looking uncomfortable.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I hope this is okay? I don’t want to impose on your free time.”He looked nervously at the four young men already seated, lunch containers open and chewing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s fine Mr. Lannister.” Pod spoke first, swallowing quickly. “Everyone’s welcome.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please Podrick, call me Jaime.I’d appreciate all of you calling me Jaime…if that’s alright.” As one the group nodded, looking completely non-plussed. Brienne gave a relieved exhale, they were going to let her off the hook.She’d pull each of them aside and thank them later.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, the emblem on your towel matches the Lannister family sigil.” He pulled out his container of salad and grilled chicken, Brienne felt a little silly next to him holding peanut butter and potato chips. <em>“Hear me roar!” </em>Laughing, he unceremoniously stuffed a bite in his mouth. “I wouldn’t make much of a lion I’m afraid.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You think not?” Brienne studied him through her crunching. She didn’t know Jaime well, but he <em>exuded </em>power. A deep well of charisma and passion, it would be potent if unleashed.“I think you’d be fearsome.”Theon choked, Pod was grinning through his tuna.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are we still on for Saturday?”Sam spoke from his position on a blanket. “I’m really looking forward to the next part.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m out.” Theon grumbled, and the group groaned in response. “I know, <em>I know…</em>my fucking sister.” His eyes darted up. “Oh…hey<em>-hey,</em> sorry about that M-Mr. uh….Jaime.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve heard the word Theon, and I have quite the difficult sister myself.” His smile looked strained, Brienne smothered the strong urge to pat his cheek or tousle his hair, something to wipe the worry from his pretty face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anyway…” Theon continued, “…she got a new job, and my folks are insisting we have dinner <em>‘as a family’</em> to celebrate.” He gave the family bit air quotes, not feeling very familial toward anyone who shared his surname.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What are we going to do without a thief? Stealth is essential for the party to progress.” Even to her forgiving ears Sam came off whiny, Brienne braced herself for Jaime’s reaction. If he noticed it wasn’t evident, happily eating and watching their interaction like it was grand entertainment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>He’s lonely. </em>The thought struck her so solidly there was no arguing with it. He’s lonely and proud and his family is broken somehow. That lingering urge to comfort him rolled back in, stronger than ever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Maybe Jaime would like to play?” It tumbled out of her mouth unheeded, causing Bran’s eyes to widen and Pod’s head to snap up.“That is, I-I mean…no pressure. I’m sure you have plans.” She smiled apologetically at Jaime, having inadvertently put him on the spot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No plans.” He kept eating, methodically chewing without a hint of discomfort from the attention. “So what exactly am I signing up for again?” His eyes sparkled with real enthusiasm, real joy. It made Brienne’s heart do a little flip, her face flushed in response.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Third Saturday of each month we meet at my house and play Dungeons and Dragons. Brienne suggested it as a bonding exercise for the group and it was so much fun we kept playing.” Bran nodded at Brienne, giving her a small smile. “She’s good at bringing people together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not to mention Bran’s family lives in a freaking castle.” Sam chimed in gleefully. “I fully expect to find a wight in the basement someday.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Theon’s the sneaky one, so he’s our thief.” Bran explained. “You could play his character.Although, I’m not sure it suits your personality. I see you charging in, weapon drawn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ll channel my most devious self.” Jaime’s lip twisted with dark charm, Brienne forgot to inhale as he focused it on her. “You’ll have to explain what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m relying on you to be my guide eleven.” He patted her knee, and she stared back with a blank expression.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You-you’re actually going?” Brienne still hadn’t wrapped her head around the fact that she’d unthinkingly asked Jaime Lannister to play Dungeons and Dragons, and even more inconceivably he’d accepted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>What strange alternate universe have I slipped into?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bran looked particularly pleased, shooting Brienne a sly look behind Jaime before speaking. “I can email you a summary of the game so far and a general guide on how to play. We start at six, I’ll text you the address.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What can I bring?” Jaime raised his eyebrows in question.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alcohol and Eggos.” Sam immediately answered, causing a round of guffaws.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Like…the breakfast food?” They nodded in unison. “Well okay then, beer and waffles…oddly <em>not </em>the first time.” Answering a wide eyed look from Brienne with a shrug. “I guess you need to meet my brother for that to make sense.” Gathering his food containers and bag, he stood with such precise grace that it left Brienne gaping. She had never been that elegant in her life. “Thank you for inviting me to lunch, and for Saturday.”Jaime looked comfortable and contented, she found herself automatically matching his expression. “Brienne…I can pick you up on the way, save some gasoline?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne shuffled through the information contained in that question. Jaime knew where she lived from her employee file. He had quickly calculated the distance between their residences and decided that she was in acceptable “ride together” range. And, <em>most shockingly, </em>the thought of being trapped in a moving vehicle with her was apparently not repulsive.He was <em>in fact</em> going out of his way to do just that. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>By the time she finished the mental gymnastics Jaime was fidgeting, twisting and un-twisting the handle to his lunch bag. Probably worried that <em>she</em> was reluctant to be stuck in a car with <em>him.</em> “Th-that sounds great.” Brienne gave him a smile that she hoped looked reassuring and not borderline panicked. He wandered off, leaving her to face the puzzled looks of her colleagues unchaperoned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What the fuck was that?” Bran was the first to speak, the unofficial spokesman of their little group.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Brienne has a date.” Sam was grinning at her, eyes sparkling behind the folds of his cheeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-it’s not a date. We’ll all be there…except you.” She stuck her tongue out at Theon who made a snatching motion as he snorted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Sooo</em> glad to miss the show. I might vomit if if have to watch you make goo-goo eyes at the golden lion all night.”He ruffled her hair affectionately to lessen the blow of that observation, it still landed with a thunk somewhere near her gut.<em>Oh God, do I? Did I?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What will we talk about in the car? What will I wear?” She made a little sucking sound, her throat trying to draw that last sentence back without anyone noticing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you really worried about what you’re going to wear to a Dungeons and Dragons game? <em>Brienne…</em>you hear yourself talking?” Theon narrowed his eyes at her, tracking every movement of her face. She worried at her lip, felt the heat shoot up her neck until her earlobes burned. “Holy shit, you’ve <em>really</em> got a crush on him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t…it’s not like that.” The last three words fizzled on her tongue, hard to say, even harder to think. Her heart ached with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He likes her.” Pod spoke up, quietly twirling a piece of grass around his fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pod that’s sweet, really. But you don’t have to lie…” Everyone was staring at her now, Brienne wanted to drop the whole ludicrous topic. Jaime Lannister was being nice, <em>just nice.</em> No hidden agenda.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s true, I’ve seen it. I-I mean, we all have…<em>haven’t we?</em>” His perplexed gaze moved around the circle, waiting for conformation before valiantly continuing alone. “He makes like<em> ten</em> trips to the coffee pot a day but hardly drinks any, just staring at the back of your head, trying to find something to say.” Pod was smiling, an open joyfulness that teased at the futile hope hiding in Brienne’s chest. “He looks at you all day, watches your hands, o-or your face. When you bite your lip he gets all jittery, wets his own like he can feel the pinch of your teeth. Brie<em>…he listens to your voice with his</em> <em>eyes closed</em>.” She marveled at the generosity of her friend’s words. He magnified her better attributes, ignoring the pile of ugliness Jaime was sure to have noticed on one of his strolls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Pod you’re kind but…but…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just don’t sell yourself short, okay?” His usually subdued tone rising in urgency. “Don’t pretend to be something you’re not to match some lame expectation in your head. Be yourself, a-and if he’s a worthwhile guy that will be plenty. Let him fall for the real Brienne…the sweet, geeky girl who pays her own way…who owns a brain as big as her scary shoulders and smothers us all like a mother hen.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The circle quietly agreed, even smart-assed Theon nodding in serious unity. “Make him earn you B.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She smiled weakly, imagining a crash and burn ending to the shortest flirtation in the history of flirtations. He’d take one close look at her nerdy shirt and spotted, lumpy nose and wish he hadn’t offered to drive before making some excuse to leave early.She’d find her own way home and, if she was lucky, in a couple of months be able to meet his eyes again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Buddy Material</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The car ride together was comfortable. Not that Jaime expected otherwise, but the untroubled ease of sitting close to Brienne, of talking and smiling and watching the world slip by together was reassuring on a fundamental level. <i>We fit.</i> He felt it, had known the minute she swirled around in her chair and called out his bullshit coffee run with amused curiosity, speaking to his need for acknowledgement. She <i>saw</i> him. Exactly how their fit would age and settle, as friends or something more, that was the mystery.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaime checked the address twice before finding a spot close to the door and parallel parking.He could simply call or send a text, but his curiosity was eating at him, anxious to rumple around in her space.See what sort of clutter she piled on her countertops, the pictures on her walls. If left unmonitored he would surely curl up on her couch, sniff around like a bloodhound until he tracked her scent and roll in it. He’d caught a whiff of her at lunch as she unfurled the towel then sat so close. It stuck on his tongue, blended with the smell of fresh cut grass and drove him nuts for the rest of the day.</p><p> </p><p>He followed a group past the security guard (and really<em>…not safe</em>), knocking twice on her door before hearing padded footsteps on the other side.“Oh<em>…hey, </em>how did you…?” Her voice breathy from hurrying, she cocked her head and trailed off, distracted by his scrutiny.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime was staring at her naked feet, at the peachy nails and long thin toes before climbing the impossible expanse of her. Without shoes, she still beat him by a couple of inches, enough to make him bare his throat to meet her eyes. He leaned closer at the realization, she flushed like a sunset.</p><p> </p><p>“I parked out front, in case you need me to carry something.” It was the best he could come up with during the elevator ride, scrambling to justify his intrusiveness. He held out open arms in demonstration. “At your service eleven.”</p><p> </p><p>With a grin she waved him in. “I’m not quite ready…sorry.” She fluffed a hand through still-wet hair, shrugging and gesturing toward the sofa. “Five minutes maybe?”</p><p> </p><p>Jaime watched her retreat to what he presumed was a powder room, listened for the sound of the door latching. It never came. “Hey, what’s on your shirt?” He bellowed in her general direction. </p><p> </p><p>To his delight she answered, sounding slightly out of puff and muffled through a towel. “It’s stupid.” There was a nervous intimacy shouting down the hallway like this, like it was home.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, tell me.” He’d only caught a glimpse, pre-occupied as he was by the mole on her ankle and the grace of her legs.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s from <em>The NeverEnding Story</em>…you know, the movie.”He had this sudden trippy memory of something that looked like the dog shaped draft stopper his great-aunt used to place beside her kitchen door. <em>Fuzzier? With a beard? </em>“I saw that in the theater when I was really young.”</p><p> </p><p>He heard her distant, swallowed laugh followed by a groaned<em> “oh my…”. </em></p><p> </p><p><em>Shit I’m old.</em>He chuckled at himself. “Why in the world would you like that technicolor catastrophe?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t really…but tonight we’re doing a <em>Stranger Things</em> theme and I thought it was funny.” She came strolling out, hair still damp and curling around her ears.There was eye liner now and mascara, as if the unnatural blue needed embellishment. A sheer coat of barely-there pink lip gloss to further distract him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not matching.” He groused, looked at her with more irritation than he’d intended. “We should match.” <em>That doesn’t make any sense Lannister.</em> He could hear her thinking the same thing between confused blinks.</p><p> </p><p>“Shockingly, I only own one <em>NeverEnding Story</em> shirt.” She was laughing again, with him or at him, and he didn’t much blame her. “But I have a <em>Stranger Things</em> tee you can borrow.” Brienne trotted off unbothered, returned carrying a shirt with<em> Hawkins A.V. Club </em>printed in bubble letters.</p><p> </p><p>He changed right there in her living room.Enjoying the way she froze for a second, the way her eyes and lips widened until she regained her composure and turned away. Jaime had no clue what the shirt meant, but it was soft and well loved. It smelled like Brienne and fit him perfectly and if asked he would confess that she was<em> never-ever </em>getting it back.</p><p> </p><p>The car ride together was comfortable. Not that Jaime expected otherwise, but the untroubled ease of sitting close to Brienne, of talking and smiling and watching the world slip by together was reassuring on a fundamental level. <em>We fit. </em>He felt it, had known the minute she swirled around in her chair and called out his bullshit coffee run with amused curiosity, speaking to his need for acknowledgement. She <em>saw</em> him. Exactly how their fit would age and settle, as friends or something more, that was the mystery.</p><p> </p><p>They walked in together, finding the others already set up and waiting. “Nice shirt.” Sam called out, raising a half-finished beer.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, it’s Brienne’s.” She faltered at his side, and he caught Bran’s slick eye roll. Let them gape all they wanted, he was covered in Brienne’s cloak tonight, a guest under her protection. Whatever assumptions they made, he was sure to have fantasized worse, and in glorious, frustrating detail.</p><p> </p><p>“You look cute together.” Pod spoke quietly, assessing them with appreciation. “It would be better if you matched.”</p><p> </p><p>“See<em>…see!</em>” Jaime waved dramatically at her shirt then his. “Wise Podrick, a voice of reason in the wilderness. If you’d given me proper warning eleven, we could be twinsies.” He poked her in the side for emphasis.</p><p> </p><p>“I am <em>not </em>your twin.” Brienne delivered it so straight laced, pained in her denial. <em>No, she sure as hell isn’t Cersei. </em>His twin wouldn’t consider mingling with a group of entry class workers, wouldn’t lower herself to enjoy something as mundane as a game and a beer. Cersei whom he always disappointed, Cersei who hated that they shared a face but not a heart.</p><p> </p><p>“And thank goodness for that.” He waggled his eyebrows and pulled out her chair, completely flustering his giantess. “Someone explain what’s going on here.” He stretched his arms to encompass the table and surrounding room.</p><p> </p><p>By the end of hour one he deduced that the show playing in the background was this <em>Stranger Things </em>they talked about, that eleven was a pretty girl despite being hairless and having a bloody nose most of the time, and that the other kid actors in the show didn’t stink. More observations followed: Dustin was his favorite, Bran <em>really did </em>look like Mike, Steve had amazing hair but a weasel face, Nancy was whiny and her ribs poked out, and Barb was the future catch that everyone ignored because her glasses were too big and her pants too high. Jaime decided to stan Barb. The Christmas lights strung over the table had something to do with the show, as did the fact that they kept yelling <em>Demogorgon</em> every time Bran rolled the dice. Otherwise, he was lost.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime also sucked at D&amp;D. Like <em>really-really-get-your-companions-killed</em> level of sucking. Brienne was a paladin, which was a fancy name for a knight, which<em> of course </em>she was. The group deployed her first to fight whatever, and she repeatedly explained that her character was level <em>blah-blah</em> and had <em>such-and-such </em>strength and phenomenal endurance and “<em>let me handle it Jaime”.</em> But every time Bran rolled the dice for an attack…and rolled them again…and again…Jaime panicked. It was some fucking pavlovian response: <em>Brienne’s in trouble, run into stupid situation and get your ass handed to you.</em></p><p> </p><p>By the third charge the group’s groans had morphed into laughter,Sam egging him on with <em>“Go get her hero!”</em> as he rushed into battle and was categorically demolished. They voted that this evening didn’t count toward the crusade, too busy enjoying the spectacle of Jaime acting an idiot with Brienne tipsy and red and giggling at his side.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime couldn’t remember a better night.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It was all too much. Jaime wearing her shirt. Jaime calling her his <em>twin.</em> Like anyone would look at the two of them and label her the same species as Jamie Lannister, let alone related.He was golden…golden and glorious and prettier by the minute as he poured her drinks and brushed his fingers across her knuckles when he rolled the dice.</p><p> </p><p>At first she’d been offended, positive that she was the brunt of his jokes with the twins bullshit and his too-appreciative stares; the pulling out her fucking chair, and treating her like a damsel in distress.</p><p> </p><p>Until she realized she wasn’t.</p><p> </p><p>That this night was real and Jaime was honest and <em>holy hell </em>what was she going to do with all this<em>-this Jaime-ness</em> flooding her system with feedback.She blamed her panic for leading her astray, finding herself five-fingers into the maple syrup whiskey Jaime brought (because<em>…Eggos!</em>) and needing to pee.Afraid she might stumble before she cleared the door to the hallway.</p><p> </p><p>She made it two steps before the spins caught her, knees bowing as a firm arm slid nonchalantly across her back, a strong hand cupped her waist. “So I was thinking…” Jaime wrapped her elbow around his neck, hoisting her weight against him. “<em>…may-be</em> fresh air?” His voice was musical, making light of her situation as she sagged against him in relief.</p><p> </p><p>“<em>….may-be </em>bathroom?” She parroted the sing-song tone then found herself hysterical, bending forward in a fit of giggles.</p><p> </p><p>“Gotcha eleven.” He twined his fingers with hers, patiently steering her out of the room. They made it to the toilet without incident, and Brienne was about to declare victory when her jelly legs gave out and she sprawled in a very cozy chair in the hallway. Whiskey seeping into her system by the minute.</p><p> </p><p>“Come here.” She pawed at Jaime, tugging his fingers and pinching his thighs, whining “please Jaime…<em>please…</em>” until he relented and sat in her lap. “This is your fault after all, you and that bottle of poison.”</p><p> </p><p>“I really am sorry Brienne. I lost track of the pour.” He brushed a stray hair out of her eyes, heads resting close on the chair cushion.</p><p> </p><p>Brienne’s brain was so <em>very </em>fuzzy and Jaime-<em>Jaime </em>was heavy and warm and smelled like syrup. His pretty lips were right there and his hair<em>…dear God</em> his hair had hypnotized her all night, this one delicate curl slicked around his ear, stiff with sweat. She twisted it between her fingers, separating and rolling the strands as he sighed against her neck.It was someone else…<em>she’s sure it was…</em>who tangled their hand in his golden waves, who twisted and pulled until his head fell back and he gasped her name. Someone else who crept forward and brushed their lips against the corner of his mouth, who licked the salt and whiskey from his skin as he panted and shook from the effort of not giving in.</p><p> </p><p>“Brienne<em>…Brienne </em>sweetheart, this is a bad idea…” She touched his teeth with her tongue, Jaime whimpered. “…th-the kissing is a wonderful plan, <em>gr-great plan </em>don’t get me wrong, b-but…oh <em>fuck…</em>” Her eyes were drifting shut, and her head was swimming and his mouth was wet and soft an-and if she leaned forward <em>just like that</em> his breath flowed past her parted lips, filling her throat and<em>…damn </em>it felt so good, and she<em> wanted…</em></p><p> </p><p>She felt his surrender, the snap of willpower stretched to its limits by the slow built of tension. Jaime lunged forward, groaning and fastening his mouth to hers, devouring her. Brienne regarded him through half-lidded eyes, hummed her consent as his tongue slipped inside, plunging deep and firm, setting free the delighted wail that had loitered there ever since he settled solidly in her lap. He swallowed it down, hands kneading at her shoulders, squeezing her arms. Every stroke of his tongue sent curls of heat to her core, Brienne buzzed with it. Warm and content as his body seemed to melt into hers, a cushioned fall as he pressed her into the chair and she dragged him down. Brienne was <em>so very</em> heavy, a boulder sinking in the pool of his touch, no fight, no scramble toward sunlight.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime surfaced first, came up like a man drowning and yanked free of her hands. Brienne blinked in confusion. Maybe this was wrong? Maybe he didn’t want this a<em>-and maybe</em> she’d read something into nothing. <em>And oh</em>-oh no<em>…stupid, </em>stupid <em>girl. Why would you think, what world are you living in?</em></p><p> </p><p>“<em>Hey…</em>none of that.” Jaime drew her close, thumbed away tears she hadn’t registered were falling. “I <em>want </em>to kiss you Brienne, in fact I’m quite mad with wanting right this moment.” Making his point, he shifted on her lap uncomfortably. “But this would be so much better if you, well…remember it tomorrow?” He dusted kisses against her temple, and it didn’t help. Didn’t stop her tears. Didn’t make her less foolish and ugly and undesirable against his perfect chest.</p><p> </p><p>He made their excuses to the group, drove her home with a hand on her thigh and a worried expression on his face. Brienne couldn’t look at him. She’d apologize formally on Monday, transfer to another department if Jaime asked her to. Sobbing herself to sleep on the couch, she longed for the gentle let down that she’d expected.</p><p> </p><p>Morning arrived to the painful thudding in her head and her phone buzzing on the coffee table.</p><p> </p><p><b>Jaime:</b> Hey, you alive?</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>srsly, are you okay? That was a lot of shitty whiskey on an empty stomach.</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> call me when you wake up</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> Aren’t you up yet?</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>URprobably still dreaming about my kisses, ‘cause they were pretty great 😘💋</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>R you pissed about the kissing? I can forget it. Consider it forgotten.</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>😞</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> I don’t want to forget about kissing</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> Let’s kiss again, sober this time. On a date, a real date.</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>What RU doing next weekend?</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Monday came and Brienne didn’t ask for a transfer, instead spending most of her day laughing about how much fun they’d had. Theon caught shit for missing it, and she caught shit for getting unequivocally shit-faced and Jaime caught shit for being a total D&amp;D tool and no one minded a bit.</p><p> </p><p>Jaime sat with them again at lunch, lingering after everyone left, trying to catch her eye and coax her into lingering with him. “So…about next weekend?” He barreled forward as soon as the others were out of earshot.</p><p> </p><p>“Jaime, you don’t need to make me feel better, I’m just happy to keep my job. We can go back to normal.” He seemed uncomfortable halfway through the first sentence, by the end he was forlorn.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t want to…I guess, that is I<em> thought</em> that yo-you know with what you-we, umm <em>we </em>did that…” Jaime ran long fingers through his hair, forehead crumpling in distress. “I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood.”</p><p> </p><p>“Wait…I thought, o<em>h hell…</em>” Brienne grabbed his fingers to stop the assault on his curls, impulsively pressing his knuckles to her lips. “I thought you were just being nice.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m always<em> nice.</em>” One end of his mouth twisted seductively, making nice sound filthy. “Why would you think I didn’t mean it? I was fairly obvious.” She grew hot at the memory, red streaks quickly reaching her jaw.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m…well<em>…me. </em>I’m buddy material.” Shrugging and tugging at the hem of her oversized shirt nervously. Brienne spent years finding her footing, the part she was destined to play. It didn’t hurt to admit the truth, not any more.</p><p> </p><p>“I want you to be my buddy.” He bit at his lip, suddenly young and bashful. “Buddies with benefits?”</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes bugged, appalled shock deepening her already pink cheeks. “Jaime Lannister, did you just ask me to be your fu—”</p><p> </p><p>“<em>No! </em>Well, <em>yeah…</em>I guess I did<em>,</em> sort of. But not like <em>that!</em>” He shook his head vigorously, snatching her fingertips and tugging hard. “You <em>are </em>my buddy Brienne, at least…I hope you will be. You’re timid but still brave, clever and gentle…different from anyone I’ve known.” She grimaced, gearing up to make a self-depreciating comment. “I want your friendship, first and foremost.It doesn’t stop me from imagining more.Do I have to pick just one thing for us to be?”</p><p> </p><p>With eyes like spring he waited, a wild hope in the tilt of his chin and the twist of his fingers on hers. “I suppose we can be as much or as little to each other as we desire.” Brienne kept her voice steady, ignoring the crescendo of her pulse as it banged in her ears.</p><p> </p><p>Her answer seemed to please him, something prideful and hungry puffing his chest and deepening his smile. “And if I desire everything?” He lowered his darkening eyes, need giving way to embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe I’ll give it to you.” And good God she was flaming now, as they danced around the edges of a contract that neither of them knew how to fulfill. Brienne suddenly desperate to reassert boundaries, to rein her stampeding heart.<em>Start with something small, </em>she told herself…<em>an attainable goal.</em> “Take me on that first date you mentioned.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Patience is not a virtue that I own much stock in.  I just couldn't wait to update and move their story along. Please let me know if you are enjoying it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Archery Isn't Sexy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She grinned and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, the guarded look she usually wore opening before him. He saw her in that moment<i>—really saw her—</i>the girl who armored herself with too-big shirts and ratty jeans, with kindness and soft words, clever thoughts and beloved books. Hiding in fantasy because the real world was cruel to someone unusual<i>…someone extra…</i>and Brienne was so very <i>extra.</i></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The renaissance fair was everything he imagined, not that Jaime had spent many minutes of his life before Brienne imagining such a thing. It was a study in extremes, with half the patrons simply there for the spectacle while the rest were active participants, dressed the part and providing their own free entertainment.Brienne stared open mouthed at the extravagant suits of armor on “knights” in line for the port-a-pots.</p><p> </p><p>“How do they manage in that little space?” She was gnawing on a giant turkey leg, little spots of grease highlighting her nose and chin. Jaime found it irresistible how shiny and satisfied she looked beside him.</p><p> </p><p>“I bet it’s messy. Do they rust?” He elbowed her until she guffawed in response. “How bad do you think it smells in there?”</p><p> </p><p>“Are we discussing the suits or the toilets?” She snorted, trails of laughter still caught in her throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Both?” He took a sip from his beer, each swallow more hesitant as he eyed the waiting crowd.</p><p> </p><p>“I expect it’s awful…on every front.” She nodded at his large cup. “Enjoy that later.” </p><p> </p><p>“Which is your favorite?” They were sitting on the top bleacher of an empty jousting run, crowd watching in the mid-morning sunlight. The trees were starting to turn crimson, and from this vantage everything was bright and glinting, a sea of color and movement.</p><p> </p><p>“That one.” Brienne pointed to a tall man with sandy hair and a midnight cape swirling out behind him. His silver armor elaborately worked, little stars pressed into the edges. “He’s striking.”</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I was your knight.” Jaime couldn’t stifle the undercurrent of jealousy in his tone as he slipped an arm around her waist and slid her to his side, only content when their hips touched. Brienne leaned into him, letting her shoulder rest against his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“I was only looking at the costume.” She smoothed her hand over his. “You’re here.”</p><p> </p><p>Jaime didn’t understand why he cared. The beast that scampered to the surface when he thought of Brienne noticing someone else, and how easily her touch tamed it. It all made little sense. “I would buy you armor.”</p><p> </p><p>She grinned and the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, the guarded look she usually wore opening before him. He saw her in that moment<em>—really saw her—</em>the girl who armored herself with too-big shirts and ratty jeans, with kindness and soft words, clever thoughts and beloved books. Hiding in fantasy because the real world was cruel to someone unusual…someone extra…and Brienne was <em>so very extra.</em>  Jaime tingled beneath her, tightening his grip on her hip.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not very practical.” She sounded resigned, never saying she didn’t want it. He tucked that knowledge away, letting his mind wander to a house filled with things she would love: antique armor and real swords, funny posters and too many toys, big bookshelves and a big bed and lots of room to grow close then old together.</p><p> </p><p>“There are shops. I want to spoil you…just a little.” He lead her to one that sold medieval clothing, chuckling as she passed by the corsets and dresses with barely a glance.They picked out brightly dyed tunics with laced slits at the collar, matching wool breeches with soft leather ties.When Brienne stepped out of the dressing area Jaime stumbled forward like a man possessed, teasing at the knots over her collarbone and brushing his fingers against the pale, freckled skin peeking from every crack.She nuzzled his cheek in reply.</p><p> </p><p>He insisted on buying her a leather vest and matching high boots, the smell of Brienne beneath freshly tanned hide enough to make his head spin. Jaime anticipated an afternoon spent leaning close, sniffing her neck at every chance. She admired for him a knee-length jacket of deep red suede, and when he spun in the mirror she offered such a hungry once-over that he purchased it immediately as well.</p><p> </p><p>They left the shop a fancy lord and his unconventional lady. Jaime didn’t let on that he’d ordered Brienne a sapphire cloak of her own, long and rich and peppered with little silver stars. His knight should be lovely, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s an archery contest in a few minutes.” Brienne was staring at a schedule on the web site, weaving through the crowd with single-minded purpose.</p><p> </p><p>“Archers are cowards.” The words plopped out of his mouth, something his father had said when he asked for a bow for his eighth birthday.</p><p> </p><p>“Spoken like a true sword-wielding snob.” She raised a brow, no real animosity in her face. “So quick to deny your lion roots, who’s roaring now?” He winked and flashed his most leonine smile, enjoying the way her neck burned as she strode ahead.</p><p> </p><p>There was already an audience gathered by the range, three pairs of targets set at 15, 30 and 70 yards and a short line of contestants loitering near the entrance. Jaime headed toward the stands, startled to find that Brienne wasn’t there. By the time he located her fair head above the crowd she was busy filling out paperwork with the other would-be archers.He stared until she sought him out with a sheepish smile.</p><p> </p><p>The archer was a dick.Jaime thought at first it was part of the show, all the swagger and preening. He quickly realized that the guy absolutely hated his job but enjoyed the shit out of making fun of the nerdy fair patrons, taking every opportunity to belittle their outfits or their lack of skill with a bow.His first instinct was to grab Brienne and ditch this crappy excuse for entertainment, spare her the humiliation of facing this blowhard up close. Then he saw her face.</p><p> </p><p><em>Brienne was furious</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Not the quickly passing rage of a summer storm or the simmering, ready to cry with desperation kind of fury. His timid girl was splotchy cheeked, shoulders drawn tight, hands fisted and feet squared, lift a weapon and slaughter your enemies level of furious. Jaime wondered where she came from, this glorious warrior woman wearing Brienne’s face.</p><p> </p><p>When she reached the front of the queue he half-expected the archer to walk away, assuming the man had some sense of self preservation.Instead the idiot chose to poke at the predator in front of him, laughing at Brienne as he asked “Are you my next victim little lady?”</p><p>The audience snickered anxiously at the word, nothing of Brienne<em> little </em>in that moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think so.” She stared him down, speaking loudly and shifting into his radius with a deliberate antagonism that hushed the crowd. “I believe you’re mine.”</p><p> </p><p>“A fighter not a lover, eh? I suppose that makes sense.” He slid his eyes over her length with obvious distain, the ugliness of his spirit soiling his handsome face.</p><p> </p><p>“Shall we set the terms?” And clearly he was <em>not</em> prepared for <em>her</em>—for the deep, strong voice that carried across the stands—for the way she threw her head back in challenge, wind lifting her flaxen locks like a storybook heroine as she casually twirled the bow around her hand. “If I lose I’m expected to leave. Is that correct?” She paused, waiting for his exasperated nod of agreement. Jaime cackled aloud as he took the bait, the poor idiot archer. “So it reasons that if <em>you </em>lose…you are expected to leave and I will continue the contest as victor.”</p><p> </p><p>Her adversary stared open mouthed, lips soundlessly twitching as the trap slowly tightened. If he refused he was a coward, the only option to accept. Reluctantly shaking her hand, he took his position at the line.</p><p> </p><p>Brienne shucked her vest and loosened the tie at her neck, a murmur of anticipation streaking through the stands as she stretched her massive shoulders. Jamie gasped at the roll of lean muscle beneath tightly drawn linen. He had studied her girth before, the half-hidden strength draped in baggy clothes, her strangely calloused fingers and beautifully toned arms. It suddenly made sense and…<em>oh my, </em>the poor,<em> poor </em>archer.</p><p> </p><p>There was no contest. Brienne quickly wiped the dirt with his pretty, arrogant face as she landed arrow after arrow in the center circle of all three targets. Her pale fingers flitting quicksilver over the string, those fucking impossible eyes like slits of daylight cutting a path.By the second set the crowd roared with each shot she landed, his silver huntress a statue in the throes of their adoration.</p><p> </p><p>The archer threw down his bow and stalked off, much to the delight of the now-rowdy audience. Brienne…<em>his sweet, generous Brienne…</em>stood her ground and talked with every contestant behind her in line. Patiently explaining to novices how to nock an arrow and hook the string. Placing her big hands over those too weak to give a good draw, making sure every participant hit the target at least once.</p><p> </p><p>When her circle of admirers finally dissipated Jaime was close by, holding her vest on outstretched arms. He knew he must look silly, his cheeks ached from the grin that refused to dull. “May the odds be ever in your favor.” Jaime delivered the line in his most prim soprano, and Brienne relaxed instantly, shrinking half a foot as she slouched forward with a snuffling laugh. “You make one hell of a tribute Tarth.”</p><p> </p><p>“So you actually know that one? Best archery movie ever.” She shrugged into the soft leather and wrapped it tight, taking her own long inhale of the thick scent. Jamie swatted her hands away, finding pleasure in fastening her buckles and ties.</p><p> </p><p>“Seems a shame to be putting clothes <em>on</em> you after that.” His mouth grazed the feathery hairs just above her collar, Brienne’s skin prickled against his lips. “Do you realize how fucking sexy that was?” Voice dropping to a growl meant for her ears alone.</p><p> </p><p>“Archery isn’t sexy.” He felt her shiver, swaying forward into his touch. “He was giving us a bad name…some of those kids might actually want to take up the sport one day.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re good.” Brushing against the tendons of her neck, he traced her pulse to the spot above her collarbone, mouthing her sweaty skin as she squirmed with need. “<em>How good</em> exactly are you Brienne?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ve<em>-very gooood.</em>” It came out a moan, and Jaime huffed with delight, sending more goosebumps scuttling across her chest. “I competed in c-college and qualified for nationals…th-th-three times,<em> oh God…</em>” She whimpered as he flattened his tongue against the hollow at the base of her throat, pulled at the laces of her tunic and dragged teeth along the ridge of bone toward her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“All this muscle…” Jaime dug his fingertips into her back, felt the solid bulk undulate as she shifted beneath him. “…you must still train?” Her shoulder was round and full beneath his lips and he couldn’t help biting down, tugging gently at the flesh.</p><p>Brienne keened…a high, vulnerable sound that shook through them both, softly crying <em>“yes-yes” </em>either in answer to his question or passionate abandon.Her eyes were closed and her head thrown back and Jaime envisioned all sorts of naughty things he could be doing to elicit this response as they stood in the empty archery range.</p><p> </p><p>Leaning back with a dark chuckle, he glanced her lips with one last, chaste kiss. “My pardon Brienne, a lord shouldn’t dishonor his lady in public.” He extended an arm and she blinked at him with blown eyes, taking a second to regain her bearings before linking it with hers.Her sweet, flushed face relaxing in a happy grin.</p><p> </p><p>They had dinner in the loud pub. Jaime asked more questions about archery, and she talked of her father teaching her to shoot when she was six, how every time she lifted a bow she though of him back home. Brienne confessed that she still occasionally competed, that she practiced most days after work and had vague aspirations of making another run at nationals. Jaime made her promise to take him to the range, and he silently hoped that someday he would get the chance to thank her dad for loving her so well.</p><p> </p><p>As the crowds dispersed they walked hand in hand to the exit and called for two rides. Jaime circled her waist as they waited, clinging to the day but certain she wasn’t ready for more. He had barely buckled in before taking out his phone.</p><p> </p><p><b>Jaime:</b> best first date ever???</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> BEST FIRST DATE EVER</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>sorry for yelling</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>U are a badass btw</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> ☺️</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>BAD!ASS! you could kill me at 70 yards.</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> I could kill you at 90 yards tbh</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> I won’t kill you</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> that’s good because you owe me a second date</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> your turn to plan</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>🙁oh no</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> if it’s with you it will be great</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> I don’t think I will be able to sleep because of you. I have lots of thoughts right now…</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>good thoughts?</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> VERY good thoughts 😜</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>oh my</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please let me know what you think, thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. "What kind of loser is a Huffle-whatever?"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Before she could react Jaime turned his head, planting a lip-smacking kiss on her temple. “I’m going to make you look so good Tarth. What’s the record for number of goals in one game?” Pod stared open mouthed at Jaime, clearly not expecting either the action or the question.  Brienne felt flames shoot up her neck, tried desperately to pat them out with her palm. Everyone stopped talking, everyone gawked. Jaime seemed giddily amused at their reaction, regarding her with a mix of tease and blatant adoration. Brienne gripped his arm, battled the swooping sensation in her stomach. Her feet knocked out but she refused to fall, hovering weightless and panicked.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was Wednesday already, and Brienne was still without a brilliant idea for date number two. She’d scanned the internet for something hip, an artsy show or a craft brew tasting, something-<em>anything</em> with more cool points than her usual activities. There was tolerant and there was stupid, and she didn’t want to find herself on the stupid side of this equation staring at Jaime Lannister with geeky longing.</p><p> </p><p>The guys (she already counted Jaime as one of the guys,<em> her guy</em> to be precise, but that was another matter) were outside by the time she finished a long, tedious call to their branch in Pentos. She could hear Jaime’s voice above the others.</p><p> </p><p>“What does this mean I’m a Huffle…shit.” He squinted at the screen with blatant animosity. “Huffle<em>-puff?</em> Who the hell made up these names and what in God’s name is a Hufflepuff?”</p><p> </p><p>“That statement is a stand-alone crisis of faith.” Bran answered drolly. “…and Hufflepuffs are the Dudley-Do-Rights of the Potterverse. Congratulations Lannister, you’re secretly a nice guy.”</p><p> </p><p>“No I’m <em>not.</em> I should be in the one with the lion, the pretty red one.” He whined, poking the emblems with annoyance. “What kind of loser is a Huffle-<em>whatever?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a Hufflepuff.” Brienne sat close enough for her back to brush his, delighting in the resultant shiver. “We aren’t just nice. Hufflepuffs are loyal and tenacious, fair-minded, patient…dependable…”</p><p> </p><p>“Good people.” Jaime placed his hand on her knee, gave it a drawn-out squeeze as he examined her with his forest green stare. “Hufflepuff it is.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m a Gryffindor.” Sam spoke with a bite in his mouth, pausing mid-chew when the group went quiet. “<em>Really!</em> I took five different tests to be sure, apparently I’m a ‘<em>live in the moment’</em> type fellow.”</p><p> </p><p>“Pod’s a Puff too.” Bran was pointing around the circle, citing each person’s house affiliation as if it were common knowledge. “Theon’s a Slytherin…no shock there, and I’m Ravenclaw with Slytherin tendencies.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re still playing Saturday, aren’t you Brie? We won’t have a team otherwise.” Pod looked at her expectantly, she shifted beneath his questioning gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“Playing…what?” Suddenly remembering a conversation held between sips of whiskey, her stomach rolled at the memory: there was a Quidditch match this Saturday, Brienne silently chastised herself for forgetting. The team was her and Pod’s <em>thing. </em>Of all her guy friends, he was the one who <em>got her,</em> who felt something kindred in her insecurity and worked at it with soft words and even softer eyes. If she was less of an emotional sink-hole since starting at Lannister Corp., it was because of Pod’s bottomless reassurance. Choosing Jaime over him was wrong in a way that would leave her questioning his reactions for months and cast a shadow over something irreplaceable.</p><p> </p><p>Her friend’s attention skirted over the hand still gripping her thigh, how Brienne’s towel had bunched from scooting an inch or two in Jaime’s direction until her side was flush with his. “It’s okay, you probably have plans.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really.” Jaime spoke up, and Brienne sighed, felt the muscles along her spine sag in relief. “We were looking for something fun to do.What’s Quidditch?” Her brain lurched to a sudden halt, stopped in its tracks by Jaime’s use of <em>“we”. Are we a “we”? </em>Reading her mind he gave her leg another firm squeeze.</p><p> </p><p>Pod grinned, breaking into a half-hour long discussion of the rules of the game. Explaining how he and Brienne played in the same for-fun league with flexible rosters and minimal competitiveness. By the end of their break it was agreed that Jaime would make an excellent beater, especially since his main job would be protecting the chasers, including Brienne.</p><p> </p><p>Before she could react Jaime turned his head, planting a lip-smacking kiss on her temple. “I’m going to make you look so good Tarth. What’s the record for number of goals in one game?” Pod stared open mouthed at Jaime, clearly not expecting either the action or the question.Brienne felt flames shoot up her neck, tried desperately to pat them out with her palm. Everyone stopped talking, everyone gawked. Jaime seemed giddily amused at their reaction, regarding her with a mix of tease and blatant adoration. Brienne gripped his arm, battled the swooping sensation in her stomach. Her feet knocked out but she refused to fall, hovering weightless and panicked.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you two a thing?” Sam asked the question and Theon snickered while Pod<em>…dear God. </em>Pod looked so happily flustered that her already overheating heart collapsed into a pile.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I we-<em>we’re,</em> that is a-ah we went on uh, well I mean…” Her hand shook on Jaime’s arm, voice shaking to match. Hope like a muzzled beast in her head, straining against it’s captors, almost free.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” That rich voice she had quickly grown to cherish chiming clear, settling the matter in one word. “We are most definitely a thing.” Jaime sought her eyes, his expression so bright and warm she flushed an even more impossible shade in reply.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s nice.” Sam answered cheerfully. Bran winked and Theon smirked and Pod hummed a satisfied note, then they packed up their things and made small talk and wandered back in the building as if<em>…as if nothing.</em> As if it made complete sense that gorgeous, charming Jaime Lannister wanted a <em>thing…</em>with<em> her.</em></p><p> </p><p>“We’re a thing huh?” She stared at his fingertips, heavy and tight against her leg, needing the distraction to find her voice.</p><p> </p><p>“The best kind of thing.” With his other hand he stroked a knuckle along her jaw, catching her chin and lifting until their faces were close. “The kind you want to hold close, snuggle beneath the covers and keep safe but can’t seem to stop talking about to<em> every-blessed-person </em>you know. All the potential in the world but already so comfortable, so solid. A thing you can’t imagine living without, even though you somehow did just yesterday. We’ve got a great thing going here Brienne Tarth, <em>can’t you feel it?</em>”</p><p> </p><p>“I can…<em>I do.</em>” She lost herself in the canopy of his eyes, a shelter for her delicate spirit. “It terrifies me.”</p><p> </p><p>“It delights me.” Jaime caressed her chin with his thumb, scraping a nail beneath her full bottom lip until she shivered. “You delight me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What if it ends up a mess?” Brienne breathed her fears against his hand.</p><p> </p><p>“It won’t.” <em>He sounded so sure.</em></p><p> </p><p><em>She knew better. </em>“It might.”</p><p> </p><p>“Then I’ll fall on my sword and find another position. I won’t separate you from your friends. Last in the queue should be first to leave.” And just like that he disarmed her gathering worry, excising her fear with one deliberate strike. “Trust me eleven.”</p><p> </p><p>“I do.”<em> She did, </em>and that was the most terrifying thing of all.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b>Bran:</b> 😋when did you hook up with Lannister?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> we did NOT hook up</p><p><b>Bran: </b>no sex?? Sam called it 🔪he is a eunuch</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>srsly none of your business bowl cut</p><p><b>Theon:</b> you<em>all </em>saw him fondle her thigh right?</p><p><b>Theon:</b> he <em>definitely</em> has hit that</p><p><b>Sam:</b> RUDE Theon</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> Hello??! right fucking here squid face! NOTHING was hit</p><p><b>Pod: </b>don’t listen Brie, they’re jealous</p><p><b>Theon:</b> his hair<em>is</em> pretty</p><p><b>Theon: </b>unlike Bran’s</p><p><b>Bran:</b> I’d hit that 🦁🍌</p><p><b>Bran: </b>Lannister I mean</p><p><b>Bran:</b> I’d hit you too B 😏</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> 😬</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> thank you???but ewwww🤢</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> <em>brother-ly</em> love dude</p><p><b>Bran: </b>I brotherly love you too</p><p><b>Sam: </b>how many dates?</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>only one</p><p><b>Sam:</b> but a good one?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b>yeah</p><p><b>Pod:</b> just good or <em>good-</em>good</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> <em>good-</em>good</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> like really <em>really </em>good</p><p><b>Pod: </b>☺️</p><p><b>Sam:</b> niiice</p><p><b>Theon: </b>I may barf on my keyboard</p><p><b>Bran:</b> you <em>are</em> jealous Theon</p><p><b>Theon:</b> bite me Bran</p><p><b>Bran: </b>I’d have to find it first…</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>Shut up with the penis jokes!</p><p><b>Theon: </b>awfully testy Tarth, missing something already?</p><p><b>Theon:</b> 🍆🔥🔥</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> Screw you ass-hat!</p><p><b>Theon: </b>balls</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>RIP Bobby</p><p><b>Theon:</b> 🤣SPN dork</p><p><b>Pod:</b> is everyone coming to the match?</p><p><b>Sam:</b> yes. drinks after?</p><p><b>Theon: </b>I’m in</p><p><b>Bran:</b> yep</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>don’t change your plans on our account, it’s probably super boring watching us play</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>really, I don’t mind</p><p><b>Brienne: </b><em>please </em>guys</p><p><b>Pod:</b> sounds like a plan!</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The next day there was a yellow and black shirt waiting in his office chair,<em> “12”</em> in big black numbers on the back, along with a black headband. Jaime finished the outfit off with black shorts and gold soccer socks that he bought specifically to match the tee. If he was going to run around a field with a length of PVC pipe between his knees, he might as well embrace his Hufflepuff-ness in all its bright, puffy glory.</p><p> </p><p>It was a brilliant fall afternoon, and Jaime showed up at the pitch fully expecting to be the most put-together Puff there.He had<em> of course</em> underestimated Brienne, a freshly discovered running theme to his existence apparently.</p><p> </p><p>She wore a fucking kilt, an <em>honest to God kilt</em> (and really<em>-really</em> isn’t that cheating?) a short, sporty one designed for field hockey or lacrosse;black and gold plaid that just cupped her backside, exposing miles of leg that ended in her own set of gold knee-highs rimmed in black.Her shirt was girl-cut and snug in all the right places, she sported a white headband with silvery hair slicked tight in a small high ponytail.Brienne was every dirty school-girl fantasy that he’d <em>never </em>had before, and if he was condemned to spend the next hour seeking out her panties every time she ran by, Jaime might die of heat stroke despite the crisp autumn air.</p><p> </p><p>She stood quietly beside him, grinning goofily at their almost-matching socks, completely oblivious to how damn sexy she looked. Unable to ignore it one minute more, Jaime shook his head and lifted the hem of her skirt with his “broom”. “Please tell me you have something on under there.” Heaving a dramatic sigh as he spotted the spandex beneath.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I-I wouldn’t…” She was so pink so fast, it was truly remarkable. “This is my old Stormlands hockey uniform, it just happens to match.”</p><p> </p><p>“And you just happen to look delicious in it.” Delivering the line with such an even tone that it took her a beat to catch up. Jaime was rewarded with a hushed gasp and a tug at the hem of her kilt in reply. “I will be looking for those little undershorts all afternoon.”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne bit her lip, eyes a match to the cloudless blue sky as she considered her rebuttal. “Expect to find them near the hoops. I hope you can keep up Lannister, we have a match to win.” The challenge in her voice was seductive, spurring him to be her equal in all things.</p><p> </p><p>“I have <em>excellent</em> stamina Tarth.” He tapped her pole with his, coaxing her to continue their verbal spar. “I’ll be on top of you all day long.”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne found a shade of red he hadn’t seen before, sputtering to reply “In your dreams.” Quickly realizing that the door to his imagination only swung wider with that invitation.</p><p> </p><p>“Guilty as charged.” Jaime’s chuckle was low and dirty, and she was <em>so innocent…</em>a glowing tower of blush, luminous as she shifted foot to foot beside him. “I <em>will </em>dream about that skirt.”</p><p> </p><p>She looked ready to combust, and Jaime was sliding in for the kill when the whistle blew for them to line up at their own goal. The rest of the match was spent as promised, chasing Brienne from one end of the pitch to the other. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Damn, she’s built for Quidditch.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jaime shook his head in self-recrimination. <em>Who has that thought anyway? </em>But her long legs ate up the turf, and her gigantic hand encircled the half-deflated volleyball (that they insisted on calling a quaffle?<em> really?</em>) so that it never slipped loose, no matter the multitude of rapid-fire cuts she made. Brienne targeted on the move with ease, shoulders rippling and cocking like a massive crossbow. All Jaime had to do was keep her from being taken out by the other team’s beaters or tackled by their chasers or keeper and she took care of the rest.</p><p> </p><p>Jamie took a dodge ball (a <em>bludger, </em>Brienne corrected) to the gut and retched, caught one in the crotch that had him seeing stars, and suffered so many glancing blows to his thighs and arms that he lost count. He tackled five people and was thrown on his ass three times, always keeping his body between Brienne and the other team’s players. Together they drew so much attention that Pod was often open in the other chaser slot, allowing him to score with relative ease.In the end Jaime’s gambit paid off, their team was decidedly ahead by the time the snitch was captured.</p><p> </p><p>“You were really good.” She came trotting up after the whistle, enfolding him in impossibly long arms.Her clothes were sweat-soaked, she shivered in the cooling breeze. </p><p> </p><p>“Here.” Jaime shrugged out of his Lannisport sweatshirt and zipped her in. “Now you’re half-lion, half-stag, a mythical creature if ever I saw one.”</p><p> </p><p>Brienne grinned, removed her yellow and black scarf, tying it around his neck in trade. “And you’re all Puff.” She tugged at the ends, reeling him in until their noses rubbed. Hers was cold and wet and reminded him of puppy, he dipped below to lick the salt from her upper lip before slipping his tongue between her teeth. Brienne’s breath was still coming as hot little pants, it quickened as Jaime sipped the heat from her throat.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re killing me eleven.” He whispered the words against her open mouth, the nip in the air settling on his skin as he burrowed his arms into her sleeves. “Take me somewhere warm.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sometime during play the others had arrived, Brienne heard Theon’s obnoxious cheer after her second goal.Following the match they huddled on the sideline with Pod, giving her and Jaime happy smirks as they strolled hand in hand off the field.</p><p> </p><p>“Awfully cozy B.” Theon met them halfway, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming the side opposite from Jaime. “You sure you’re not…” Leaning back so that he was out of Jaime’s view, he made a filthy gesture with his tongue and cheek that set her already flushed skin burning.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re such a pig.” She smacked at his arm and wiggled free. “It’s shocking some nice girl hasn’t scooped up all<em>…that.</em>” Scrunching her nose with exaggerated distaste she gave him a slow, appraising glance that had Theon turning in a circle for her inspection.</p><p> </p><p>“You love it.” He leaned up to give her a quick peck on the cheek before shouting “Nice game Jaime!” as he hurried back to the others.</p><p> </p><p>They walked to a pub just down the street with hearty comfort food and dark stout. A folk band played through late afternoon, and Brienne found herself sharing a plate and a bar stool with Jaime, their thighs and bottoms pressed distractingly close, one fork between them.It was intimate in ways she’d never considered, fingers colliding as they both reached for a bite, how she’d place the tines in her mouth knowing they’d just rubbed against his lips. Jaime was on his second beer, his breath hoppy and humid in her hair. She knew he felt the same closeness by the lazy droop of his lids, how his pupils expanded to fill the green until his eyes were the color of deep forest.</p><p> </p><p>The band took a break and were replaced by canned music;a slow song came through the fuzzy speakers and Jaime dragged her under protest to the empty dance floor.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep me from saying something stupid Brienne.” He wrapped both arms around her waist, the warmth of his chest bleeding into hers as they swayed in a circle.</p><p> </p><p>“Like what?” Her nose was against his neck, and her hands were sliding up his back. Nothing he might say seemed wrong just now.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with you.” Brienne moved to search his eyes, he stilled the motion with a hand curled behind her neck, needing to talk without the added weight of her gaze. “Like…I already see a future with you in it, and it’s awesome.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not stupid if I say the same thing<em>…is it?</em>” Brienne spoke the words into his shoulder, glad for the cover of his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>Kissing the top of her head, he fingered the hairs at her nape. “My family is full of people who weigh the consequences of every action. <em>‘Think before you act Jaime’</em> was much more common growing up than <em>‘I love you’.” </em>He sighed, Brienne pressed closer. “At some point I quit acting and just reacted. I haven’t wanted something so badly<em>…</em>something<em> just for myself…</em>in a long time, and it feels amazing. I’m afraid I’ll rush it, push too hard and screw up.”The song finished and a second one started, alone in the dark corner of the bar they rocked in circles.</p><p> </p><p>“I push people away if they get too close. It-It’s easier that way.” Brienne’s voice was so low she wasn’t sure he heard her, Jaime hummed in encouragement. “I’m a six-foot-plus dork with a plain face, not what most people find attractive…”</p><p> </p><p>“Brienne<em> don’t.</em>” Cutting across her doubts in a tone both chastising and comforting, Jaime spread wide hands across the small of her back. “Everything about you is sexy to me.” He squeezed against her until there was no space between them, reassuring her with his body along with his words.</p><p> </p><p>“No one before…” He needed to know part of her was unexplored, underdeveloped. That this was all <em>so new. </em>“Jaime I haven’t, I-I’ve never…” Everything was shaking.</p><p> </p><p>Stopping the pretense of dancing they <em>just stood,</em> holding each other impossibly close. “Never?” Jaime mouthed the word against her neck, and she might die of mortification if he asked her to elaborate.Shaking her head in denial, she waited for his teasing laugh. “…oh, <em>okay</em>…okay.” He was soothing her again, rubbing those large, kind hands up and down her spine in languorous strokes. “This is good Brienne, really good.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why?” Brienne didn’t see her inexperience as anything but a hassle. It would be awkward and uncomfortable, Jaime deserved better.</p><p> </p><p>“Because maybe,<em> just </em>maybe…<em>if I’m lucky, </em>I’ll be your first…” His fingers worked their way lower, spreading around the curves of her hips as he shifted to meet her. “…and I’ll make sure it’s wonderful.” There was so much promise in him, in his words and in his touch. Brienne stopped breathing to savor it.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment she exhaled, letting all her fears exit in a lingering puff. “I’ll slow you down if you move too fast, say something if you’re overwhelming me.” Her fingers were tangled in his golden curls, she gripped him to her.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell you every day how precious you are, how remarkable. I won’t let you shut me out.” He dragged kisses along her jaw and his words felt like a vow.</p><p> </p><p>They returned to the bar, their friends either too engaged in conversation to notice their absence or too kind to mention it.Another hour passed discussing favorite comic books and shitty movie adaptations, fighting over who was the best Batman and who was the worst, and who was the best <em>bad</em> Batman (Val Kilmer winning by a small margin over George Clooney). Feeling only slightly tipsy, Jaime called for a ride and insisted on dropping Brienne off first and seeing her safely to the door. She managed to drop her keys on the counter before her phone buzzed.</p><p> </p><p><b>Jaime:</b> best second date ever?!</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> BEST SECOND DATE EVER!</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>RUhiding any other super powers?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> I can talk about <em>Contest of Conquerors </em>for two hours straight, breathing optional 😆</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> you?</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>I wouldn’t call it a power as much as an attribute</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> 😜</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>subtle</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> I’m a Lannister, what’s subtle again?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> thank you</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> for not freaking out</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> about?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> you know</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>no? what?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> my issue? condition?? 🤦🏼♀️</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> your what?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> srsly, you’re going to make me say it?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> Jaime</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> <em>Jaime?</em></p><p><b>Brienne:</b> fine. MY VIRGINITY</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>🙀 OMG you’re a virgin? 🙀</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> you don’t have to yell</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>cats, really?</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> was that too much?</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> no</p><p><b>Jaime: </b>I can be too much</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> It wasn’t 😘</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> Brienne…</p><p><b>Brienne: </b>yes Jaime?</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> You won’t be one for much longer</p><p><b>Jaime:</b> 🍆💦😍</p><p><b>Brienne:</b> oh my</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have only love for my Hufflepuff friends, please do not take offense at the chapter title.  Also, I am unsure of Jaime's house affiliation, but Brienne is most definitely a Puff so I figured he'd most likely be in her house...or at least want to be. This is my Slytherin reasoning at work, feel free to disagree. </p><p>I would love to hear your thoughts. I cherish every dollop of kindness you've given me in the comments so far.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Significant Other</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Is this a costume?” Brienne knew she was grinning like an idiot. She loved dressing up, hiding behind the guise of a character was strangely freeing for someone who stood out on their best day. Dazzling a crowd with how well she portrayed a hero drew attention from the fact that her shoulders were too wide for normal clothes. Her thick thighs that could crush a mortal man were a turn on as a caped crusader.  Brienne was the star of many a Comic Con exhibit hall, and the guys had photos to prove it. She hadn’t been brave enough to show them to Jaime…not yet. Grabbing the bag she turned on her heel, shouting “be right back” over her shoulder.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is by far my favorite chapter in this story, and probably the most fun I've ever had writing. It's goofy as hell, which says a lot about me. I hope it makes you laugh.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By Tuesday Jaime had sent three text messages excitedly proclaiming that he had arranged a perfect evening for Saturday night, and all she had to do was wait for his arrival with baited breath.She spent the rest of the week prying for information, but went into the weekend clueless. He wouldn’t even give her instructions on how to dress, which left her both strangely excited (<em>were clothes optional?</em>) and panicked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the knock came at five o’clock she threw open the door, only to stand with her mouth gaping for long minutes.Jaime was in costume…and not just <em>any </em>costume.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Propped against her doorframe in head to toe khaki and fake mustache, he tipped his wide brimmed hat. Jaime looked so damn pleased with himself, right down to the padded belly, “Hopper” badge, and cigarette perched on the edge of his lips. Brienne couldn’t stop from breaking down in waves of giggles. In one long stride she swooped him into her arms and pinched his newly sprouted love handles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey, watch it woman. I worked an hour to get everything in the right position.” Jaime twisted his gun belt and pouched his gut for dramatic effect. “I <em>could </em>be convinced to let you remove it later.” He waggled his eyebrows and she rubbed her nose along the mustache, cackling as the springy hairs tickled her upper lip. “Tyrion got us tickets to a fancy masquerade party. Here…” He held out a bag and she peeked inside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is this a costume?” Brienne knew she was grinning like an idiot. She <em>loved </em>dressing up, hiding behind the guise of a character was strangely freeing for someone who stood out on their best day. Dazzling a crowd with how well she portrayed a hero drew attention from the fact that her shoulders were too wide for normal clothes. Her thick thighs that could crush a mortal man were a turn on as a caped crusader.Brienne was the star of many a Comic Con exhibit hall, and the guys had photos to prove it. She hadn’t been brave enough to show them to Jaime…not yet. Grabbing the bag she turned on her heel, shouting “be right back” over her shoulder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Eleven.”</em> She moaned the word.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne held the little pink dress in front of her with gathering disappointment, the scale accentuating her largeness rather than celebrating it. She had to give it to Jaime, the costume was <em>spot on </em>authentic;smocked top and pressed white collar, full long sleeves and gauzy fabric…<em>very </em>crafty mom 80’s chic. She pulled it on and felt the shoulder seams strain, thin material stretched super tight across her meager breasts. “Are those my nipples?” Leaning forward she stared at her reflection and, sure enough, even the faint rose of her skin beneath a bra was dark enough to show through the semi-transparent material. “Well <em>fuck</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She did a little turn, taking in the state of the skirt.On a normal height person it would hit just above the knees, on her long body it barely reached mid thigh, the material so clingy it accentuated every crease and fold of her crotch. “I’m going dancing in a bad nightie.” She shook her head and covered her face in mortification, feeling more naked than she would in underwear alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But Jaime had picked it, and she would swallow glass to avoid disappointing him after he looked so giddily self-satisfied. She pulled on the green and gold tube socks and dug the Converse high tops out of her closet, might as well embrace the aesthetic. Taking a defensive breath, Brienne strolled as nonchalantly as she could manage from the bedroom and stood in front of Jaime, nervously tugging at the hem.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh that’s, oh…wow<em>-wow…</em>” He was staring intently at her chest, and she fought the instinct to cover herself. “are those your…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Yes! Shit </em>yes…they are!” She put a hand over each boob, propriety be damned. “It’s like a pink tissue. I’m afraid if I take a deep breath the arms will rip off.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime laughed with enthusiasm, a rambunctious chuckle that made her insides bubble. She grinned defiantly, dropping her hands as he growled in delight. With a predatory lunge he had her around the waist, swinging her in a slow circle. “You are <em>never</em> wearing that in public.” She frowned, opened her mouth to agree that she looked ridiculous when he stilled her thoughts. “I don’t share.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>His hand slid to her ass, cupping her through the feather-light material as he drew her in and nibbled at her ear. She was losing focus, surrendering to the attention of his mouth and fingers. “You realize that Hopper basically adopts Eleven? This is <em>very </em>questionable behavior chief.” She poked at his pretend belly, causing him to flinch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess I didn’t get that far.” With a firm kiss she pushed off and headed back to her closet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime had no idea when he bought the costume that it was going to be so thin, or so short, or so<em>-so</em> very distracting. Part of him was thrilled by the tantalizing hint of Brienne’s skin, but the larger portion of his brain had a conniption at the possibility of anyone else seeing her so exposed. One look at her face had been enough, she seemed minimized, undermined. He couldn’t stand it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was about to tell her to forget it altogether, that they could rent a movie and order pizza and skip the hoity-toity party, when Brienne called from her bedroom. “Don’t laugh…please.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just handed you a bag containing the <em>‘underage sex worker Eleven’</em> costume. Not a firm leg to stand on here.” He heard the click of heels as Brienne entered the room like a fawn testing it’s footing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>If he had been shocked by the first outfit, he was rendered utterly bewildered by this one. Once his brain started functioning again he determined that he was more enchanted than bewildered. Brienne fidgeted in full-body red and blue spandex, a gold star on her chest and matching pleather belt/fanny pack.She wore crimson boots that gave her a good five inch height advantage, and her hair slicked back in shiny waves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Captain Marvel?” He was so happy to recognize the costume it took him a minute to appreciate the body beneath it. Brienne made an excellent super hero, like <em>excellent-</em>excellent, beyond belief. She was powerful and confident, everything toned and rippling beneath the skin tight material. “You look outstanding.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“In heels I’m close to seven feet tall…that’s pretty outstanding.” She laughed, but it lacked her usual self-depreciation. Something about the costume bringing out the steel in her usually tame spirit. “But I like this one, don’t you?” Jamie nodded emphatically, unable to trust his voice or hands right this second. “Is red lipstick okay? I don’t want it to seem too much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime swallowed to keep from blurting that everything about her was too much, even on a normal day.“Red, <em>definitely.</em>” He took a step forward, brushing his fingers over the ends of stiff curls then tracing the line of her collar.“Each moment with you is a surprise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is that good?” She leaned into his touch, ducking under his hat to nip at his earlobe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I go to bed eager for morning because I can’t wait to see what comes next. I think that’s good.” He gave a little gasp as she tugged at his skin. <em>“Bri-enne…”</em> dragging her name out as he closed his eyes, “…if you keep doing that we aren’t going anywhere.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She laughed and stroked his fluffy belly once more. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to make this night perfect, let’s go have fun.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tyrion where are you?” Jaime pressed the phone tighter trying to hear his brother’s answer. “O-okay…just text me when you’re here, alright? Yes<em>-yes </em>it’s nice…I know, thanks…yep all because of you…” He grimaced dramatically, causing Brienne to shake with silent chuckles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is he close?” Brienne leaned on the high top table and took another sip of champagne.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One can never tell, he’s hard to pin down.” Jaime smiled at his own joke, Tyrion had always been too clever for his own good. “Somewhere between just outside the door and having never left home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I hope he’ll come, I want to thank him for the tickets.” Reaching across the table, she squeezed Jaime’s fingers. “Every time you talk about him your eyes light up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tyrion is the best part of my family, that’s why I’m determined for you to meet him.” He tangled their hands together. “His fiancé Tysha loves a good party, I’m fairly confident she’ll drag him out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Excuse me.” A tall forty-something dressed as Dr. Strange tapped Brienne on the shoulder. “Would you mind posing with us?” The man indicated his female companion in a bright auburn wig and skimpy red outfit that Jaime didn’t recognize. “…sort of an Avengers B side group photo.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime opened his mouth to politely tell the guy to piss off when Brienne shocked him by grinning. “Anything for the Avengers, right?” Dr. Strange handed over his cell and the three of them posed with Brienne in the middle, her long arms easily extending beyond both sets of shoulders.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Dr. further dumfounded him by turning to Brienne and asking if he could take one of <em>just her</em>.Jaime watched in utter disbelief as his usually shy date agreed, striking an arm flex pose that had him crossing his legs beneath the table. “You look <em>amazing.</em>” The woman in red gushed, giving Brienne a timid bicep squeeze before waving and wandering back into the crowd.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime leaned forward, whispered in her ear. “What just happened?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I guess they liked my costume.” She shrugged and raised her eyebrows in innocent nonchalance, unaware of the group approaching from behind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>“Hi, we were wondering…”</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It happened again, and again<em>…and again.</em> Groups of party-goers, usually fellow super heroes, asking if Brienne would pose with them, and several bold individuals straight-up asking for her photograph alone.Brienne smiled and accommodated all their requests, neither bothered nor particularly surprised by their gall.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s it, we’re dancing.” Jaime grabbed her hand, in one long motion tugging her onto the floor and into a close sway, fending off the attention of any other strangers. “If one more person puts their arm around your waist I may actually lose my shit right here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It happens every time I wear this to Comic Con, but I seriously didn’t expect the same response from the upscale crowd.They don’t see me…it’s not because they think I’m<em>—I’m—</em>I mean It’s <em>only </em>because I’m so tall, a-and you know the <em>novelty</em> of it.” She had not one fucking clue. Jaime found her naiveté both bewitching and frustrating.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They’re captivated by your tight ass.” Brienne made a low stuttering gasp and flushed to match her lipstick. Jaime slipped a hand into the little dip above her backside for emphasis. “…your ripped arms and sculpted shoulders and very high breasts finishing off the effect quite nicely.” He was grinning now, enjoying her discomfort as he pointed out just a few of the magnificent things about her.She really couldn’t take a complement, a habit he was determined to change. “Do<em> not </em>sell yourself short Brienne Tarth. The appeal isn’t the costume, it’s what’s underneath.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was biting her bottom lip and smiling now, and <em>maybe </em>that was a look of pleased satisfaction swirling around in those drop-dead eyes as she balled his shirt in her hands and smothered the space between them. They moved in time through several songs, pointing out other costumes they liked, talking about the uncomfortable high school dances they’d both suffered through. Jaime rushed a fraternity, so he added college formals to the list of unfortunate occurrences in dress shoes. When the music sped up they abandoned the floor to a younger crowd, Brienne taking the opportunity to excuse herself to the powder room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do not run off with…” Jaime frowned, cocked his head to the side in question. “Who does Captain Marvel date anyway?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “I think she’s unattached.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No<em>…she’s not.</em>” He lifted her hand to his lips and Brienne rolled her eyes with unabashed happiness, blowing Jaime a kiss as she sauntered off.He followed her pale head through the crowd until she was out of view, jumping as his phone vibrated.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> where r u?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> near the dance floor at a table</p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> have you seen Captain Marvel?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> what?</p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> that can’t be real 💪 the suit’s padded</p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> damn it looks real</p>
<p><b>Tyrion: </b>you think she’s an actor?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> what are you talking about Tyrion?</p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> f-ing amazing Captain Marvel just followed Tysha into the restroom</p>
<p><b>Tyrion: </b>👀holy shit, she’s massive and <em>firm</em></p>
<p><b>Tyrion: </b>is it rude to ask for a pic? I’ll make Tysha do it</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> maybe she’d pick you up, like literally🤣</p>
<p><b>Tyrion: </b>OMG I could sit on her shoulder</p>
<p><b>Tyrion:</b> Jaime you’re brilliant</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Tyrion waved both arms over his head as he wound through the tightly clustered revelers, not that it made him much more visible. He was approaching the table before Jaime noticed him. “<em>Burt Reynolds? </em>Where’s Dolly?” He stroked his hairless upper lip and laughed, sloshing beer as he plopped his bottle on the table.Jaime knelt and opened his arms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re much too young for that joke.” He circled his brother’s tiny frame, squeezing him close.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But you’re not.” Tyrion chuckled his reply against Jaime’s ear before looping short arms around his neck and returning the gesture.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Way to show me up little brother, you’re especially handsome tonight.” Tyrion wore a well-tailored suit and vest, looking put together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And you’re affectionate.” Tyrion raised a brow, his quick eyes darting over Jaime’s features.“…and <em>content?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime glanced down, trying to school his face into a less pleased expression and failing miserably. With a deep hum his lips parted in the same goofy grin he had suppressed for weeks. “I am<em>…very.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Oh man,</em> it’s bad isn’t it?” Jaime shrugged, aiming for coy but feeling besotted, Tyrion saw right through him. “Where is she?” He scanned the crowd, expecting to recognize at a glance the woman holding his brother’s heart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just then Tysha emerged from the throng, phone raised in victory. “I got it!” She wore a high-end Wonder Woman outfit, dark blue cape flowing behind as she practically jogged the last few steps to Tyrion then squatted so their heads were close. “Look…just <em>look </em>at her!” Tyrion gave an appreciative whistle as he scrolled through the photos. “She was <em>sooo sweet</em> too, even after I accosted her coming out of a stall.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing says classy like a selfie in the loo.” He followed his teasing with a peck on the cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I <em>know.</em>” Tysha snorted as she took a long swig of his beer. “She was the one to suggest we might look better <em>without</em> the sink in the background. My God, I think I gushed<em>…</em>seriously I was a blathering idiot, help me avoid her for the rest of the night.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It shouldn’t be hard as she’s easy to…<em>oh </em>fuck.” Tyrion’s voice faded to nothing as Brienne parted the sea of people and headed straight toward their table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wasn’t sure you liked gin, but the bar line was horrible so I grabbed two anyway.” Brienne was talking as she came, unconcerned with the other couple sharing the table. She handed a drink to Jaime, and he couldn’t resist slipping his empty hand around her neck, drawing her into a lingering, wet kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s that for?” Brienne’s smile was open and infectious, noses touching as she sighed the words against his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just because.” Smoothing a stray curl behind her ear, he nodded in Tyrion’s direction. “My brother’s here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne spun excitedly, catching the couple in matching stares of disbelief. Jaime saw her shoulders tense under the scrutiny. “Oh hey<em>-hello </em>ummm…I’m Brienne, uh-Jaime’s-uh friend…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Girlfriend.” </em>He took a hurried step to her side, hand gliding around her waist in solidarity. “This is my girlfriend Brienne…and this is my brother Tyrion and his fiancé Tysha.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She slouched into his touch, grinning widely at Tysha. “We met in the toilet. Well not technically <em>in…</em>” Tysha pinked and Brienne closed the distance between them, wrapping her enormous hands around the other woman’s shoulders. “You are an absolutely striking Wonder Woman.” Tysha giggled as her embarrassment evaporated, and Jaime watched his brother’s face melt, overcome by the tenderness Brienne was showing his future wife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Turning her attention to Tyrion, she knelt in the exact way Jaime had earlier, extending a hand once she was on level with his brother. His heart clenched at the sight, Brienne’s instant acceptance and accommodation of Tyrion’s disadvantage setting loose a whole flood of feelings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello Tyrion, It’s nice to finally meet you.” Tyrion cackled, taking her big hand in two of his before lifting her knuckles to his lips.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So you’re what happened to Jaime.” He was vibrating with mirth and Brienne frowned, not sure of the joke. “He’s been insufferably happy lately.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, well<em>…oh.</em> Me too.” Brienne stumbled over the words, further delighting Tyrion who let go of her hand to kiss her cheek. “You look very dashing Tyrion, don’t get me wrong, but I was uh<em>-that is-</em>I wondered…what’s your costume?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m an angry elf.” Tyrion stared intently into Brienne’s hypnotic blue eyes, waiting her out, baiting her…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ahh, a South Pole elf.” She answered in mock seriousness, passing some silent test as Tyrion exploded with laughter. Brienne swayed and snorted with equal amusement as Jaime looked from one to the other, lost…again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well that settles it, we’re keeping <em>you.</em>” He patted Brienne’s cheek approvingly before scooting back to Tysha’s side, leaning against her thigh as she fingered his sandy curls. “…and we need more drinks.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The rest of the night passed in a blur. Brienne warmed to Tysha instantly, and the pair spent a good deal of time on the dance floor singing loudly and bouncing together to upbeat songs.They looked young and happy, and Jaime found odd joy in seeing them so unencumbered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is she it?” Tyrion was sitting on a stool beside him, eyes soft from drink and watching his woman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.” The answer came quickly, startling Jaime with it’s surety. There was no urge to waffle, no need to explain or hedge. “She’s it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good.” Tyrion took a long slug of whiskey, emptying the glass. “Don’t fuck it up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m trying, <em>shit…</em>I’m really trying.” Jaime placed a warm hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It’s just, <em>I mean…</em>you and me. Tyrion, we don’t have the back story for happy endings.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Maybe,</em> but just look at our beautiful heroes.” Tyrion waved at Tysha who was failing with enthusiasm at teaching Brienne some TikTok dance, both doubled over and gasping by the end of the song. “We’re the damsels in need of rescue in this fable, it’s easier once you accept your fate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The music slowed and Brienne called to him, arms spread in welcome. Jaime went to her willingly, sank into her embrace and buried his face against her neck. He held tight to all the plans his overzealous mind had concocted, all the sickening sweet words that hovered on the tip of his tongue, good sense for once prevailing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime intended to see Brienne safely home and head back to his own empty house, but she turned those endless sky eyes on him with a whispered <em>“please stay”</em> and he was lost. The driver smirked as Jaime tipped him extra for the lost miles and exited silently behind her. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The night of the D&amp;D game Jaime learned that Brienne’s little apartment was just as he’d pictured, and not exactly what he expected. The posters were there, the books and toys and funny throw pillows. But it was womanly too, a wash of soft blues and greens that flowed from floor to ceiling, left him floating in her calm seas. He had loved it instantly, wanted to curl up in the knitted throw that puddled in front of her sofa and stay for days. Entering her home felt like a warm hug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just inside the doorway, Brienne sank to the floor with a grunt, yanking furiously at her boots. “This is torture.” She was still quite buzzed, losing her balance and tipping on her side while gripping the heel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here.” Jaime stood in front of her, made a gimme motion with his hands until she straightened a leg, foot hovering at chest level. He removed the first boot and she sighed dramatically. When he pulled off the second she groaned with a wantonness that made him shift in place, hoping she didn’t notice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m gonna go change.” She pointed to the bedroom and he was sorry to see her go, missing the tight fitting suit already. He shed the button up shirt and his gun belt, but kept the padded layer on. Wrapping an afghan around his shoulders he stretched out on her couch, yawning. Brienne returned in a a faded tee shirt and baggy sweatpants, and maybe he liked this look better, all round edges and soft wrinkles.She crawled the length of him and he tucked her close like a favorite blanket. “What’s this costume?” Brienne smiled against his chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is me at seventy-five. I’ve gone flabby and I nap all the time, lounging around begging for my younger wife’s attention.” He ran his fingers through her hair and she hummed with pleasure.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have my attention Jaime Lannister…” She slid the distance to his face, lips hovering a breath above his. <em>“…undivided.”</em> Bracing her arms alongside his head, she lazily lowered her mouth. The kiss matched her mood, a silky-slow exploration that tasted of gin, her tongue easing inside, teasing at his with gentle strokes. It was heavenly<em>, </em>sweetness that shifted to quiet arousal as it settled in the pit of his stomach then spread like molasses, reaching the tips of his toes. Brienne lit a slow building fire, a spark in the grass that could consume the world if given enough time. Within minutes Jaime was groaning desperately, sinking deeper into the cushions as he wrapped one leg around her thigh and lifted his hips to hers, a luscious grind of lips and limbs that rendered him breathless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was Brienne who broke the kiss, Jaime couldn’t. He’d have shifted and squirmed beneath her all night, begging for release as she timidly, meticulously wrecked him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There’s a change of clothes in the bathroom.” Brienne stood, setting him free from her delicious weight. When he reappeared in his own cuddly outfit of sweat pants and tee, the lights were dimmed and she had retrieved a blanket and two pillows from her bedroom.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought we could work on this, but I’m too tired to think.” Brienne sat on the couch with legs crossed, holding a handful of papers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What is it?” Jaime reclaimed his side of the couch, placing his head on her thigh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It-it’s stupid,<em> really.</em> I don’t know what I was thinking…just forget I said anything.” Jaime grabbed her wrist, focused on the writing before she could pull it away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A Dungeons and Dragons character?” He studied the blanks for name and description, a list of attributes waiting for a score. “<em>Bri-enne, </em>are you knighting me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She yanked her wrist but Jaime held tight, her chest and neck flared red. “<em>I know, </em>it’s so horribly dorky. I’ve had a really<em>-really </em>great night an-and I’m a damn fool because <em>I’m ruining it…</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m flattered.” He held her in place, forbidding her retreat. Her fears were showing, and he’d promised to be her strength. “I meant it when I said I wanted to play again as a paladin, like you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh o-<em>okay…</em>” Placing the papers on the side table, her nerves subsided. “We can do it tomorrow.” She gave him a gentle shove and he moved his head to a pillow propped against the arm. Brienne climbed over him again, wedging between Jaime and the back of the couch. He spread the blanked over them, thrilled to spend the night tangled together, Brienne’s long body pressed to his side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are we on the couch?” He whispered it against her hair with absolutely no intention of moving, simply curious.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t trust myself to act appropriately <em>in a bed…</em>with <em>you.</em>” Brienne radiated heat, and Jaime couldn’t for the life of him halt the chuckle that wiggled to the surface.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The concern is mutual.” Kissing the crown of her head as he tugged the blanket tighter, he waited until her breaths were slow and even before whispering: “<em>You know,</em> it’s possible to have sex on a sofa Brienne.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a brief pause in her breathing as she considered his words,finally sighing and settling further into the crack with a soft <em>“oh my”.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Morning sun burned bright through the gauzy blue curtains, Jaime bought another hour of sleep by dragging the blanket over their heads. At some point in the early morning hours Brienne had given up shoving her huge body in the tiny space beside Jaime, now fully on top with her arms draped to either side and her legs tucked between his. It was hot, she was heavy, and his back would never be the same. <em>None of it mattered.</em> Jaime slithered his arms beneath hers, grasping and snuggling and praying that she wouldn’t wake soon so he could have a few more minutes of<em> this.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a reluctant awakening they sat on the floor like kids, eating cereal at the coffee table while the TV played.Brienne pulled out her six-sided dice and Jaime started rolling scores for different attributes:strength, charisma, intelligence, constitution.“Where’s virility?” He said it so innocently it took a beat for her to catch up, she spluttered coffee.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What?” Brienne was staring wide eyed, the sun through the curtains casting her face in an azure glow. She was breathtaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I want to roll for <em>virility,</em> also stamina<em>…</em>oh<em>-wait-</em>that one’s already on the list. What about endurance, maybe <em>girth?</em>” Brienne laughed outright at that suggestion, smacking his hands.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I am NOT facing our friends with those<em>-those things </em>written on the sheet.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on, its <em>funny…</em>I’ll do it.” He took the pen and in tiny letters added his extra-special attributes to the margin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s your pride and your downfall, don’t blame me if you score a three. Just imagine what Theon will say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime grabbed the dice with bravado, asking her to blow on them for luck before pulling off an astoundingly good set of rolls. Scoring well above average for each of his so-called <em>“special powers”</em>. His virility was apparently a sixteen, he crowed with prideful amusement, pointing to the number long after the joke quit being funny. When it came to girth she handed him one die, and he pouted until she upgraded it to an eight sided one. He rolled a seven which<em>—in all fairness—</em>was likely an overestimation, but he’d never tell Brienne.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They spent the morning and early afternoon leaning against each other and laughing until one of them snorted, then laughing some more. Content to just be close, holding hands and trading quick kisses. Jaime had never felt this relaxed with someone other than Tyrion, even so they grew up with an underlying current of competition, of who could outdo whom. This was easy and genuine, an old song that thrilled him every time it played.He held back his thoughts of the future for long as he could stand, ready to burst if he didn’t let a little of it leak out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m going to send an email to HR tonight, let them know about us.” She froze beside him, forehead scrunching in thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What does that mean?” Jaime hated the faint tremble in her voice.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It means I officially claim you as my ‘significant other’ in the eyes of God and Lannister Corp.” He smiled, trying to make light of it. “More importantly, it means my father will<em>—sooner rather than later—</em>sniff out that piece of information and come looking for me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Then<em> don’t. </em>I-I mean you don’t have to<em>-to</em>…we haven’t even…” Brienne picked at a loose thread in the afghan they were sharing, unable to meet his eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Doing<em> that…or not</em> doing that, or just thinking about doing that at some point when we’re ready—it doesn’t matter.Brienne,<em> this </em>is signifiant. You’re significant.” He threaded his fingers with hers, squeezing gently. “I don’t want to wait too long and have someone presume I was an ass and pressured you to go out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“One look at me and they’d laugh at the notion.” She was turning sullen, self-doubt rearing its ugly head and making her withdraw.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Stop it!” He shook her arm until she rocked back and forth with the motion. “<em>Stop. It. </em>You know I appreciate your looks…that I adore every part of you.” He stared into her eyes until she acquiesced, nodding begrudgingly as if she believed him but didn’t understand why. “I just wanted you to expect their call, that’s all.” They sat in silence a long time, Jaime stroking her hand with his thumb, calming her fears.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You <em>are </em>significant to me.” She still couldn’t meet his eyes, speaking instead to their joined hands. “I have trouble saying what I feel, but that doesn’t make it less true.” He saw her gaining momentum as she spoke, putting on her armor bit by bit until she finally felt bold enough to seek his face. “I’ve never been this happy, never <em>expected </em>to be this happy. <em>‘Significant other’</em> is a pale understatement of what you are to me.” Jaime beamed, kissing her once for her bravery, and once for her honesty, and again just because he could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to everyone who has been reading along, the comments have been great.  Please let me know what you think.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Leap of Faith</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaime served dinner, and Brienne found herself falling deeper under his spell. They talked about everything: their families, their childhoods, the memories that shaped them. Brienne knew her father would love Jaime, even if he was nothing like what Selwyn Tarth would have imagined for her. She swallowed hard as that thought ran unfiltered across her consciousness: <i>Jaime</i> and <i>father</i> and <i>love</i> blurring together in one extended expression of longing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b>Jaime:</b> RU busy Friday?</p>
<p><b>Jaime: </b>I know it’s a day early</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> not busy, why?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> It’s Halloween👻🍭</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> I thought we could be spooky together</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> scary movies? popcorn?</p>
<p><b>Brienne: </b>with butter?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> of course</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> your place or mine?</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> mine</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> 7:00</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> I’ll send the address</p>
<p><b>Jaime:</b> just follow the 🎃</p>
<p><b>Brienne:</b> ??</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The HR lady did indeed contact her on Wednesday, insisting on a short face-to-face meeting at noon. Brienne waited nervously at her desk while everyone else filed out, casting her consoling glances. Jaime was the last one to go, brushing a gentle kiss against her temple before leaving her alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was actually fairly painless, a middle aged woman with a kind smile asked her how long she and Jaime had been dating, and who initiated the relationship. There were a few subsequent questions about fairness of treatment and inappropriate talk or actions in the workplace, Brienne reassuring her that everything was above board and quite boring. The conversation was winding down when she paused, squinting in discomfort under her glasses. “I-I’m sorry, you seem perfectly happy with Mr. Lannister and I have absolutely <em>no</em> reason to suspect any funny business…but I’m <em>required</em> to ask: did he use his position to coerce you into having sexual relations?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The older woman cleared her throat nervously, not enjoying this any more than Brienne who turned scarlet and bit down hard on her lip before stuttering out an answer. “N<em>-no </em>Jaime didn’t—<em>wouldn’t</em>…I mean we aren’t-<em>w-we haven’t.</em> Our relationship hasn’t umm taken that step yet?” She shook her head, appalled that it came out a question when she needed to sound convincing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, ahh <em>okay…</em>but he listed you as his significant other?” Cocking her kind face to the side, she pushed her glasses up her nose and stared intently at Brienne who could only shrug back. After a moment she seemed to find what she was looking for, reaching out to give Brienne’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “He must have big plans for you two, hmm?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I ahh, yeah<em>-yes</em>, I guess so.” Brienne met the other lady’s eyes, finding a smile at the thought. “I <em>hope</em> so.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman grinned back, squeezing her hand once more. “Me too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>__________</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fall had finally arrived, the temperature dipping low enough after sunset to warrant long sleeves. Brienne didn’t have much experience pondering <em>date clothes</em>, but she picked her softest, slouchy sweater and her best fitting jeans. Finishing the look with her favorite boots adorned with straps and buckles, they looked a little like a <em>Mad Max</em> prop but made her legs seem impossibly long.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Uber driver tentatively pulled into the gated drive, inching forward until Brienne could reach the speaker button from the back seat window. “Ummm hi<em>-hello </em>Jaime?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There was a short staticky pause before he answered. “Brienne, hey sweetheart, gimme a sec…I’ll buzz you through.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looked up to find the driver staring over the seat with a conspiratorial grin. “Your boyfriend lives<em> here?</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah, I ahh…I guess he does.” It was a bit disorienting when she thought of it that way.The drive ended in a circle at the bottom of a manicured, sloping lawn.Jaime’s house was impressive in a subdued way, a well-loved mid-century modern with wood and stone finishes that blended into the forested lot.There was a lit walk to the glass front door and a second path leading to a gate set in a stone wall surrounding the yard. Smoke and steam rose from behind the wall, the flickering light of a fire pit. The side path was obviously the one Jaime intended her to take as he’d lined it with carved jack-o’-lanterns, their smiling faces welcoming her in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman in the driver’s seat let out a long, appreciative whistle. “He having a party, or is this all for you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-I think, <em>just me?</em>” Brienne’s voice was high and uncertain, and the young driver bugged her eyes before breaking down in a sweet giggle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh wow,<em> just wow…</em>you better lock that shit down sis.” She reached across the seat to give Brienne a fist bump which she shyly returned, chuckling low under her breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose so.” Grinning broadly, she opened the door. “Wish me luck.” The young woman flashed her a blinding smile and a thumbs up as she pulled off.</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>The gate was unlocked, Jaime waited inside looking like a autumn GQ spread in an orange fisherman’s sweater and tight jeans. Taking two long strides then enveloping Brienne in a smothering embrace. He smelled wonderful, a thick cloud of spicy cologne and fresh baked bread, she nosed along the thrum of this pulse, sighing contentedly. “You did all this for me?” Brienne appraised the yard, it was magical. The centerpiece was a large pool set in a stone deck, a dozen jack-o’-lanterns circling the edge, their watery reflections like spirits swimming below the surface. A fire pit was lit, it’s flames adding to the glow off the ripples. Table for two set with black cloth and a collection of flickering candles completing the Halloween theme. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well…true confession, I had a<em> lot </em>of help. Tyrion carved pumpkins with me every night this week, a feat which involved a lot of whiskey, and <em>honestly </em>was a blast. Tysha did the hard work for the meal, making the lasagna and dough ahead of time.All I had to do was pop it in the oven…which she also had to show me how to use.”He was looking sheepish, Brienne kissed his earlobe for the effort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They should have stayed for dinner” Her voice wavered as Jaime pressed little kisses into her shoulder, nudging her sweater aside with his chin to get to skin. Brienne had trouble catching her breath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tysha and Tyrion think we need alone time.” The wet exhale of his open smile tickled her collarbone. “My family likes you very much.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I like them.” She paused, hesitant to continue. “I <em>really</em> like you.” He nipped her skin in reply, then soothed it with the tip of his tongue as she whimpered. “This house…it’s beautiful.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime took her by the hand, leading her to the table and pulling out her chair.Brienne blushed at the gentle attention. “When I turned twenty-one I inherited a large trust, and bought<em> this</em>.”He sat across from her, extending a hand to indicate the property. “I wanted something of my own, something that suited <em>me</em>…a place to build a future.” He lowered his eyes, grew pensive before staring back at the house. “It’s empty. I mean, I have<em>…this stuff-</em>there’s nice furniture, pretty things-b-but still, it’s not a <em>home.</em> I don’t know how to make a house feel like home.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was asking for something, Brienne took a deep breath and jumped in. “I’ll help you.” As soon as the words cleared her lips she knew it was what he needed. “We can work on it together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime served dinner, and Brienne found herself falling deeper under his spell. They talked about everything: their families, their childhoods, the memories that shaped them. Brienne knew her father would love Jaime, even if he was nothing like what Selwyn Tarth would have imagined for her. She swallowed hard as that thought ran unfiltered across her consciousness: <em>Jaime</em> and <em>father</em> and <em>love </em>blurring together in one extended expression of longing. As the night went on and the air turned cold, steam rose from the pool. It hovered over the surface glowing ghostly white.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Jaime!</em>” She turned to him with elated realization. “This looks just like…”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“Stranger Things?” </em>His barking laughter split the calm as he tipped his head back with glee. “I’ve been waiting <em>all night</em> for you to figure it out…good lord, I ran the heater <em>for days,</em> the water’s around 85° now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ohhh, poor Barb.” Brienne half-moaned, half-chuckled and Jaime’s face went blank, then he frowned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s the scene where she was kidnapped, right?” He took a sip of wine, waving a hand. “She’ll be okay, it’s too good a character to waste.” Brienne bit her lip and made a squeaking noise. “Shit…<em>really? </em>They killed Barb? Shit, <em>shit</em>—she’s my <em>favorite.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Honey, I’m so sorry.” She put her hand over his, unable to keep a straight face as she attempted to comfort him. “Jaime, that’s really not a well kept secret. There are <em>‘justice for Barb’ </em>tee shirts for goodness sakes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I haven’t watched the whole thing yet.” He groused and took her hand in his. “I’m getting there, but I avoided reading spoilers.” Another segment of wall crumbled as she accepted that he was making a real effort to understand the things she liked, to have common interests, topics to talk about. No one had paid that much attention before, had been concerned enough about her feelings to change themselves to fit better in<em> her</em> life.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne never expected to be accepted, thinking she would have to pretend, to conceal and change to find love. So she fought it, embraced her quirks and hid behind plainness, in odd strength and strange armor that fended off every admirer<em>—everyone but Jaime.</em> He saw through the act, realized instinctively that the girl underneath was terrified of being known and rejected.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So this is the part of the show where we skinny dip.” Jaime pulled out a stack of fluffy towels hidden under his chair, walked to the edge of the pool and unceremoniously pulled off his sweater. Brienne’s breath stopped at the sight of wispy hairs flickering amber in the firelight, she tracked their path lower until they darkened and disappeared beneath his waistband.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh I don’t think that I-I’m going <em>to-</em>to, oh I can’t do…<em>Jai-meee please, </em>don’t ask me to do…do <em>that.</em>” Brienne was breathy and whiny, the shake that started in her throat crawling down her spine to her toes, leaving her whole body aflutter. Jaime never broke eye contact, unbuckling his belt and slipping out of his shoes with a twist to his lips that dared her to play along. As his pants hit the deck to reveal silky black boxers, Brienne couldn’t find the will to look away.He moved a step in her direction, then another<em>…</em>pulling off his socks as he went. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Standing directly in front of her in only his underwear, Jaime extended both hands and waited, his beautiful face filled with hope and wanting, willing her to bare a part of herself to him. “Come on Brienne, what’s the worst that could happen?” He lifted a golden brow in challenge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh I’m definitely a Barb in this situation.” Brienne shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stuffed full of slugs and eaten seems a probable outcome.” The words had barely left her lips when she felt the suffocating regret of not hearing what she was saying until it was said and then…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime coughed and choked, his face instantly crimson, eyes squeezed shut in a desperate attempt to control his tongue. It was no use. “We could debate the best order of events, and I feel somewhat insulted at the use of <em>‘slug’ </em>as a descriptor, but…” He was laughing, laughing and leaning in her direction and Brienne couldn’t help but wrap her arms around him and kiss him solidly, stopping any further commentary.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The minute her hands slid around his naked chest she knew the fight was lost. Jaime moaned and rocked forward, his body meeting hers in a motion that promised much more. Brienne’s lips fell open and his tongue was instantly inside, rubbing and coaxing until she whimpered deep in her throat and opened wider. He was consuming her, an onslaught of hot skin and crisp air that scorched her nerves and made her legs tremble. With suckling kisses he traced jaw to ear, whispering with humid breath. “It’s a leap of faith eleven, make it with me?” Taking her hands he tugged her toward the edge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finding bravery that she thought she lacked, Brienne nodded. “Don’t look<em>…please?</em>” Jaime turned away as she shed her clothes, down to the cotton underwear she hadn’t planned on anyone seeing. Brienne gave a silent prayer of thanks that she’d picked black, and that bra and panties coincidentally matched.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shivering uncontrollably they stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the water with linked fingers while Jaime counted down: “We’ll jump on three, okay?One…two<em>…three…</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne hit the decadently warm water with a crash, submerging completely in an elated tumble of limbs and bubbles and exhaled worry. When she bobbed to the surface Jaime was there, scooping her into his arms and pressing wet lips to hers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>__________</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>It feels like bathwater.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime grinned and grabbed Brienne around the waist, swirling her around until she was flush to his chest. They kissed in the deep end, feet tangling and kicking, treading water as they snatched little gasps of air then quietly sank, lips pressed tight and tongues exploring as they shared each breath. When the ache in their chests was too muchthey’d surface again, gasping and laughing and slick with the taste of each other before starting again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the moonlight Brienne was magical, an otherworldly stretch of pale skin turned mercury in the reflection off the water and the flicker of jack-o’-lantern fire. He’d catch a glimpse of blue as they drifted beneath the surface, her hair a mane of silver.The evening took on a feeling of enchantment, Jaime was being seduced by a sea witch, not that there was much seducing left to do. He was already lost.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Brienne broke free and swam toward the shallow end, flipping onto her back and floating with arms outstretched and head tipped back. Jaime followed suit, glancing over to see her breath collect in little white puffs that floated above her lips, fingers finding and twisting with hers beneath the surface as she drifted in the reflection of the night sky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s beautiful.” She was staring a the stars. The evening was cool and clear, and in the relative seclusion of his yard their light was captivatingly bright. He thought of the cloak he’d ordered for her at the fair, now folded and waiting on the foot of his bed. Midnight velvet embroidered with tiny silver stars and moons, picked to bring out the color of her eyes. Jaime imagined Brienne stretched out as she was now, with the cloak spread on the floor and her white skin beneath his fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>You’re </em>beautiful.” She turned toward his voice, after all this time still looking for the jest. “I mean it Brienne, you’re breathtaking.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She let her feet drift to the bottom, shallow enough at this point that her shoulders and head were above water.Jaime continued to float as she closed the distance to his side, stood over him and claimed him in a deep, wet kiss as he bobbed in the circle of her arms. He let Brienne have her way with him, exploring his lips and tongue as Jaime sighed and closed his eyes, surrendering to her shy want. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>With a gradual build her touches became demanding, calling his name against his mouth until Jaime stood to meet her, grasping her bottom and lifting her to him.She was buoyant in the water, those impossible legs circling his waist with ease, ankles locked behind his back. Brienne groaned at the contact, at the way he fit between her large thighs, the press of him through thin boxers revealing the extent of his desire without words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh<em>…oh God,</em> that feels nice.” Brienne was mumbling against his skin, clenching her legs and rolling her hips in a way that might drive Jaime insane if it continued for long. “<em>Jaime…</em>Jaime I need…” Her voice trailed off, losing her nerve or simply not able to find the words to tell him what she wanted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He carried her to the side, pinned her against the edge and leaned in until his body met hers<em> just right </em>and she arched and whined into the quiet, fisting her hands on his shoulders for leverage and meeting his thrust. “You need <em>this </em>love…” Shifting against her again, she moaned his name. “…and <em>God knows</em> so do I.” Holding her steady with his weight he stilled his movements, both panting furiously into the night. “But I’m a patient man Brienne, and you-you’re worth waiting for. This can be enough.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>No…</em>no I’m ready, really…so<em>-so ready </em>Jaime. I want exactly what you want.” She was kissing him again, unable to keep her mouth off his throat, he twitched against her with each gentle tug of teeth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Really?” He dropped his voice an octave, it poured into her ear low and thick. “Because I want to find every soft surface in every empty room, mark it with your scent and fill it with your cries until my home smells and sounds like <em>you</em> Brienne. I want to fall asleep curled around you, and wake beneath your weight…paint the walls to match your eyes in the morning.” She was staring at him in wonder, her gaze the color of deep seas. “There’s no end to my wants when it comes to you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jaime waited as she worked through his words, as she let the extent of his feelings wash over her and fill her, trying it out in her head and in her heart before answering: “I think I’d like that too.” His pulse raced, frantically nodding in agreement as he squeezed her tighter. “But I don’t think we can manage <em>every </em>room this weekend, it’s a big house.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know, <em>stranger things </em>have happened.” He waited, grinning…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“<em>Oh shit</em>, did you just…” Rolling her eyes, she smacked him playfully behind the head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes<em>-yes </em>I did…I went there.”He laughed and she pushed off, heading toward a ladder.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s truly awful, I may be forced to leave on grounds of irreconcilable taste in jokes.” She padded across the deck, grabbing two towels. Jaime followed, transfixed by the sight of her dripping underwear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You love it.” He answered with unbridled joy as she pressed a towel against his chest, leaning forward to brush a kiss along the bridge of his nose.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose I do.” Her voice was rich and full of promise as she took his fingers and lead him inside.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This has been so much fun to write, I hope it's been as much fun to read.  So head cannon: Loras was the archer and Missandei was the Uber driver. Jaime starts hosting D&amp;D every other week, Brienne quickly moves in and makes his home into their home, and they live a very geeky, happy life together;  a life which involves a whole lot of dressing up, much to Jaime's delight. 😉</p>
<p>Please let me know your thoughts, I enjoy hearing from anyone kind enough to read my stories.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>99_Girl…I’m a little terrified that you have been spying on me since I have a <i>Stranger Things</i> D&amp;D starter pack beneath my bedside table just waiting for me to open it and remember how to play. I laughed with glee at this prompt, I hope the story makes you laugh as well.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>